


Mamma Mia!

by Luna_Cantarina



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol and Dancing, In times of crisis, James owns a nightclub, Liam and Zayn are dating, Louis recommends:, Louis runs a theatre, M/M, Save the Tomlinson Theatre!, Summer Romance, There is lots of smirking, There's A LOT of meddling, There's some meddling too, and sass in general, scratch that, wedding crashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-07-15 13:34:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7224463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_Cantarina/pseuds/Luna_Cantarina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis huddled into himself, willing himself to be small, just this once.<br/>“Umm, Lou?” Liam whispered, “Why are you hiding in the scaffolding?”<br/>“Umm, I just- erm-”<br/>“Holy shit, it that-”<br/>“Harry Styles?” Louis grimaced, “Yeah, it is.”</p><p>Or Louis’ teenage summer beau comes back to haunt him, his grandfather’s theatre is on the brink of bankruptcy and his best friends are fucking (dating). Nothing is okay. Set to the musical accompaniment of the Mamma Mia! soundtrack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Overture/I Have a Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>   
>   
>  I have a dream, a song to sing  
> To help me cope with anything  
> If you see the wonder of a fairy tale  
> You can take the future even if you fail  
> I believe in angels  
> Something good in everything I see  
> I believe in angels  
> When I know the time is right for me  
> I'll cross the stream - I have a dream
> 
> I have a dream, a fantasy  
> To help me through reality  
> And my destination makes it worth the while  
> Pushing through the darkness still another mile  
> I believe in angels  
> Something good in everything I see  
> I believe in angels  
> When I know the time is right for me  
> I'll cross the stream - I have a dream  
> I'll cross the stream - I have a dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! So, this is a fic that is based very loosely (like, really, really loosely) on Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus' musical Mamma Mia! based on songs by ABBA. I own nothing relating to the musical and all credit for the songs goes to ABBA and their writers. Also, as per protocol, everything in this story is pure fiction using the names and personalities of real people. Anything in this story that coincides with events in real life, past/present/future, is purely coincidental. (except for Louis and Harry, because they love each other. Obviously.) Anyhow, I won't keep you any longer... !! Enjoy!
> 
> I put together a playlist consisting of the songs from the original London cast of Mamma Mia. You know, just to get the mood going ;)  
> Track 1: [Prologue](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gLyyOQnkVAM&index=1&list=PLDkplS6oiIIk2AD5Yrnn_xfdjusmECKCg)

“Harry, darling, are you sure you want to do this?”

Harry paced around the room, brows knitted together with concentration, “I think so.”

“I’m just not sure what good it will do, dear.”

“It might not do any good Mum, but it’s something I have to do. I have to know.”

Anne gave her son a sympathetic look, “I understand love. Do what you have to do. Just remember, you only have the summer.”

Harry nodded, running his fingertips over the faded photograph. Harry’s small handwriting barely visible on the bottom left corner: _Summer 2011, Barcelona_. Five boys huddled together to squeeze into the frame. Their faces were pressed cheek to cheek, all with wide smiles. Harry looked to two boys on the end. Harry glanced at the boy with the wild windblown curls and flushed cheeks. Harry almost didn't recognize himself. Then his eyes shifted over to the boy beside him. The boy’s blue eyes were squinted into slivers as he beamed at the camera, his fringe blowing around his face.

Harry brushed the boy’s printed cheeks, almost as if he could still feel their warmth. Harry took a deep watery breath as he slowly brought the photograph to his lips. He kept his eyes wide and focused in front of him, so not to let the tears welling in his eyes fall. God, five years was too long.

“Harry?”

Harry turned to look back at his mother, “I know, Mum,” he said, returning his focus to the photo, “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that was short, but the real story begins in the next chapter, so please stick around for further reading! And just out of curiosity, would y'all be interested in seeing more "musical fics" like this? I looked around and I haven't really seen that many around. And thank you so much for all your kind words and love to you all!  
> Until then,  
> \- Luna


	2. Money, Money, Money!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Act I, Scene I - [Money, Money, Money!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PCNNI5QQcDU&list=PLDkplS6oiIIk2AD5Yrnn_xfdjusmECKCg&index=2)  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> I work all night, I work all day, to pay the bills I have to pay  
> Ain't it sad  
> And still there never seems to be a single penny left for me  
> That's too bad  
> In my dreams I have a plan  
> If I got me a wealthy man  
> I wouldn't have to work at all, I'd fool around and have a ball...  
> Money, money, money  
> Must be funny  
> In the rich man's world  
> Money, money, money  
> Always sunny  
> In the rich man's world  
> All the things I could do  
> If I had a little money  
> It's a rich man's world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Thank you very much for reading! As always, this story is a product of my own imagination using characters based on real people. Any similarities to real-life events are purely coincidental. Now, enjoy... :)

“Cut!” Louis Tomlinson leapt from his director’s seat onto the rickety stage, “Are you alright, love?” His actors stood in a semi-circle watching their castmate, Macey, struggle with her leg. She was about ankle-deep into the wooden boards of the stage and furiously digging at the wood in an attempt to free her foot. Louis wished he could say it was the first time something like this had happened.

“Goddamn, this stage Louis!” Macey hissed, “Didn’t you say you were going to replace these bloody boards?”

“If I recall correctly," Louis said as he kneeled next to her, "We all agreed that fixing the heating system took precedence over wood replacement. Now, let’s get you out of there.”

Macey stopped struggling as Louis slipped a hand between her ankle and the boards. With a sharp upward tug, Louis ripped the board from the stage. The sound of splintering wood broke Louis’ heart just a little. Macey sat for a moment rubbing her ankle, observing the red scratches that stood bright against her pale skin.

Louis dusted bits of the decaying wood off his black jeans. Glancing around at the crowd that had formed around them, Louis rose to his feet, “Well, let’s take a break for now. And make sure you watch out for-” Louis made an exasperated gesture towards the gaping hole in his stage, “-that.” His actors muttered amongst themselves as they filtered off stage. Louis could hear them grumbling about the stage, the shit pay, the out-dated costumes, the crumbling set, just about anything they could think of. Louis couldn't really blame them.

Still holding the splintered board, Louis groaned as he made his way backstage. Grabbing the door handle, Louis swore when it refused to turn. He’d oiled the damn thing only yesterday. Louis continued to furiously twist when suddenly the cold metal handle detached itself from the door. Louis stared at the handle in his hand, suppressing his urge to fling it across the room. With controlled fury, Louis banged on the door as loud as he possibly could. When the door was finally swung open, he was greeted by a pair of caramel coloured eyes and a cheery smile. Louis took quick strides through the door and towards the centre of the workshop, where he deposited the disintegrating piece wood on the props table with a definitive _thunk!_

His props manager approached him with an amused face, “So, the stage is finally falling apart then?” he taunted, “It’s termites, I’m telling you. Or maybe it’s the mold. Hell, why not let it be both?”

“Thank you for that insight Liam," Louis griped, "I was completely unaware.”

Liam Payne gave his friend a good-natured slap on the back, “No need to be bitter, mate. Especially when I’m the one who fixes all this crap.”

“Sorry, Li. Everything is just falling to pieces!” Louis held up the board as proof. “Literally!”

Liam let out a small chuckle, “I can see that, Lou. And I’ll do what I can to help. So long as you don’t bite my head off, of course.”

“What is this I hear about you abusing my boyfriend?” came a voice from above.

Louis looked up and rolled his eyes, “Oh, sod off Zayn.”

Louis’ stage manager looked down at the two of them from the props loft. A slight smirk played on his face as the descended down the stairs like some goddamn royal. Everything from his leather jacket and dark, skin-tight pants to his perfect cheekbones looked flawless. Every time Louis went up into the props loft, he came out half covered in dust and perspiring furiously. Louis was pretty sure Zayn hadn’t even broken a sweat. Life wasn’t unfair.

“Hello, love.” Liam cooed as he ran to meet him at the bottom of the stairs. Zayn grinned madly down at his boyfriend and ran a gentle thumb across his cheek.

Landing a quick peck on his cheek, Zayn let their noses brush against each other, “I missed you, love.”

Louis made a loud and obnoxious gagging noise from across the room. Both Liam and Zayn eyed him with an irritated glare. Louis rolled his eyes, “If the both of you could keep the heart-eyes to a minimum that would be much appreciated.”

“It’s called being in love, Louis.” Liam said, bringing his face up to nuzzle Zayn's again, “You should try it some time.”

“But for shame!" Louis threw his hands up in a dramatic swoon, "Love requires a heart. And as this poor soul has been told many a time, he does not have one. Alas, there shall be no love for Louis Tomlinson.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Zayn smirked, as he always did, “I do seem to recall a certain curly-haired someone who you seemed quite infatuated wit-”

Zayn was cut off when a fluffy rainbow-coloured teddy bear hit him square in the face. Spitting out bits of rainbow-coloured fur, Zayn cast a look to Louis whose cheeks were bright red.

“That was very mature.” Zayn continued, passing the bear to Liam who regarded it with mild curiosity before setting it on a nearby table.

“Says you!” Louis retorted, turning away from the couple by the stairs, “That one hit below the belt and you know it.”

A guilty look washed over Zayn’s features. Casting a glance towards Liam, who also wore a look of regret, Zayn turned back to his friend, “I’m sorry, mate. I was just giving you hell. No harm intended.”

Louis huffed, still turned away, “None taken.”

The memories of that summer still haunted him. Sometimes they were pleasant. Images of Barcelona and Paris and Berlin flitting through his mind, a mix of unfamiliar shapes and colours. The smells of Austrian coffee shops and the sounds of Hungarian peddlers rushed by in a whirlwind of adrenaline and youthfulness. The occasional picture of clear green eyes offset by chocolate curls and a pair dimples drifted through his mind. For a moment, he was there again; eighteen, travelling the world with his best friends, and a beautiful boy by his side.

Other times, they were awful, like chains dragging him down. He remembered the bustle of the airport and the clatter of feet. How his whole body felt cold while his cheeks raged in fiery humiliation. How he watched slack-jawed as manicured nails combed through chocolate curls and two pairs of rosy lips connected. He remembered how he ran through the terminals, desperate to get away. How tears stung his face as the cabbie drove away in the warm summer heat. How his heart thumped inside his chest, wailing, begging for relief, begging for a love he could never have.

“Hey,” Louis jumped out of his thoughts as Liam’s hand came to rest on his head. Apparently, he and Zayn had crossed the room during Louis’ dramatic flashback, “Didn’t mean to bring up sour memories.”

Louis took a shaky breath, “No, of course not. I’m just being my overly dramatic self. Now, I do believe we’ve given our cast a long enough break. _Mamma Mia!_ isn’t going to direct itself!” Liam’s hand fell from his head as they made their way back to the theatre.

“Are you sure you’re alright mate?” Zayn asked, concern lining his voice.

Louis flashed him a watery smile, “Never better.”

Zayn’s lips tightened into a straight line and his eyes narrowed. He didn’t believe him for one moment. That was fine, Louis didn’t expect him to believe his lie anyways.

~

The lights turned out one by one. _Clink, clank, whoosh_. The entire theatre was engulfed in darkness. The quiet black stretched from the sound booth all the way to the front row. The stage, however, glowed in a soft yellow hue. The ghost light had always scared Louis as a child, a singular cluster light in the dark theatre gave off an eery feeling that he wasn’t alone.

“It’s not like that Louis,” his grandfather had said as a small, shaking Louis hid behind him, “It’s like a lighthouse. A beacon, so our old friends can come back and visit.” His grandfather smiled down at him. He was a warm, welcoming fellow and Louis always felt at peace by his grandfather’s side.

“Actors are naturally called back to their theatre,” he would say, “It’s their home. Sometimes when I’m alone at night, I can hear Michael warming up by the piano. Sometimes, I catch a glimpse of Anna jetèing across the stage. They’re all friends, Louis. No one to hurt you.” Now, with his back pressing into the splintering wood, staring up at the rafters, Louis understood what his grandfather meant. At times, he wondered if the ghost light ever drew his grandfather back. It was the Tomlinson Theatre, after all, his grandfather’s life and joy. And ever since he’d passed a few years ago, it now belonged to Louis.

“Are you there Grandpa?” Louis whispered into the ghost light, his grandfather’s words still running through his head, “Sometimes I hope you’re not. Because if you were, I’m pretty sure you’d be right pissed about things down here. I just- I don’t know what to do, Grandpa. The theatre’s on the brink of bankruptcy and if this show doesn’t make at least forty thousand pounds then we’re going to have to close. And to make things worse, my actors are about to walk out on the production, the theatre is falling apart and there’s no way I can pay to have it fixed, my best mates are dating and it’s absolutely disgusting, and I haven’t had sex in over a year!” Louis’ voice echoed throughout the empty theatre, as he realized he’d begun to shout somewhere along the way.

“Not that you really needed to know that last part, sorry.” Louis added on, “And do apologize to Anna and Michael for me, they didn’t need to know that either.”

As always, he was met with silence. Louis heaved an impatient sigh. He wasn’t really expecting anything, but a little confirmation flick of the lights would be nice every now and then. The movies always made communicating with the dead look so easy.

Just then his phone buzzed beside him.

 **zayniepoo** : hey li and i are at the bar. you wanna join? :)

 **boobear** : z, i have about thirty pounds to my name rn. so i wish i could but can’t sorry.

 **lipayno** : don’t be silly lou, this one’s on me and z.

 **boobear** : li, i’m a big boy. i can pay for my own drinks.

 **zayniepoo** : sticky’s back ;)

 **boobear** : what??? i thought he was dancing at that bar in london!!

 **zayniepoo** : the pay’s shit apparently so he came back here last week

 **boobear** : …

 **zayniepoo** : come on you know that eight pack is calling your name

 **boobear** : … is he wearing the speedo?

 **lipayno** : your favourite, the one with the see through back, right?

 **boobear** : i’ll be there in ten

Louis brushed the dust off himself as stood up, “Sorry Grandpa, I have to go ogle at a stripper right now.”

Louis hopped off the stage and jogged down the centre aisle. As he reached the back doors, he stopped and looked at the solitary beam of light.

Eyes cast upwards, Louis whispered, “Please Grandpa, tell me what to do. This is your theatre I can’t let it go. Give me a sign, a miracle, anything!”

Silence, of course. Louis shook his head as he turned his key in the lock. He should go, Zayn and Liam were waiting for him. Louis trotted down the front steps and turned onto the damp street, the wet pavement shining underfoot.

Glancing back to the theatre Louis added, “Oh, and Grandpa, if this miracle that you may or may not be sending me comes in the form of a caring bloke with a rock hard body, I really wouldn't complain.”

Only time would tell, but apparently, somebody upstairs was listening.

~

Louis arrived at the Late Late Bar ten minutes later. It was a rather unsuspecting place, tucked alongside the corner of Crown and Lion Street. The building was simple and tasteful, with oak doors opening into the street with a gentle pulse of music coming from inside. Inside it was… well, a little less quaint.

Colourful light danced around the room and gorgeous men made their rounds in tiny shiny pieces of fabric. A long bar top stretched along the wall and circled the room. In the center of the room was a chaotic dance floor. Staged high above the mass of writhing bodies were more oil-soaked men dancing on extended balconies. The neon lights reflected off their bronzed skin as they swung and swayed to the music.

Louis breathed a sigh of relief as he slipped off his coat and took a breath of the familiar exhilarating air. Over the blaring music, Louis heard someone call his name. As he turned, he saw Liam and Zayn in their usual booth, two booths down from the bar. Louis waved and started to walk over when he suddenly collided with a firm oil-slicked chest. It might have been the best thing to happen to him all day. When he looked up, Louis was met with the sight of a blonde haired beauty who flashed him a slight smirk.

“Sorry, about that mate.” the man said, unabashedly looking Louis up and down. If his g-string/apron hadn't given him away as a waiter, Louis might have been flattered. Still, Louis took the opportunity to soak in the tanned skin and washboard abs.

“No, please," Louis purred, sliding a hand onto the waiter's bicep,  Completely my fault. Let me,” Louis pressed himself into the man, his lips coming up to rest underneath his ear, “Make it up to you?”

Louis felt a smug sense of satisfaction as he felt a pair of hands snake up to his arse, “Make it up to me, huh?” the man said with a chuckle.

Louis snuggled impossibly closer, voice barely more than a whisper, “Yeah.” Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain on his left arse cheek, “Ow!” Louis yelped.

The blonde dancer chuckled and patted the sore spot where he had just pinched, “Nice try Louis.”

Louis retracted an oil-slicked hand from the rock-hard chest and chuckled as well, “Welcome back Sticky.”

Sticky waved as Louis made his walk of shame to Liam and Zayn. The two of them sat in the dim light of the club, shaking their heads as Louis approached. “You little hussy.” Zayn chided with a smile as Louis slid into the booth next to him.

“Piss off Zayn,” Louis said as he made himself comfortable on the black plastic seat, “A lady has needs.”

“You mean the bitch is in heat.” Zayn retorted.

Without hesitation, Louis grabbed Liam’s martini and threw it in Zayn’s face. Zayn yelped as he dove to the side into Liam’s lap. Most of the vodka missed its intended target, but Zayn’s hands immediately went to his hair, making sure his quiff was still intact.

“You loathsome human being!” Louis yelled from across the table. Zayn laughed while Liam ordered another martini, “Why do I hang out with you when all you do is abuse me?”

“Because we buy you drinks,” Liam smirked as another scantily clad waiter, wearing only booty shorts and a bowtie, set another round of drinks on the table.

Louis cringed as Liam slid a martini in front of him, “I’ll pay you back Li. Promise.”

“It’s fine Lou,” Liam said with a dismissive wave of the hand, “As long as you keep paying me, I’m happy to buy you a drink every now and then.”

“I’m doing my best to keep the theatre open at this point,” Louis mumbled.

“But you made such a good deposit. Surely that had to count for something?”

"I wish they were as understanding as you, Li.” Louis spat bitterly. Forty thousand quid he owed them. Forty thousand. That was probably more than Louis would make in a lifetime. Still, he had managed to stall them a little. After two loans, emptying his saving accounts, and selling his car and flat, Louis managed to scrape together a whopping twenty thousand pounds. That managed to buy him another three months with the landlords. And where he would find another twenty thousand pounds, he did not know. He really didn’t want to talk about this on his night out. Louis took a large swig of his martini, savouring the burning sensation in the pit of his stomach.

“Louis, what are you going to do?” Liam sighed.

Louis ran a hand through his fringe, “I don’t know.”

“You could do a sexy car wash. I for one,” Zayn said in a silky voice as he brushed a finger across Liam's cheek, "Would love to see Liam in something absolutely scandalous."

Liam rolled his eyes at his boyfriend and gently shoved his hand away. He turned to Louis with a contemplative expression, “How about selling some of the old props?” Liam suggested.

“You mean all props we don’t have?” Louis taunted.

"Fuck that. We need to go to Las Vegas." Zayn drawled, a devious smile playing on his lips, "Make a fortune the old fashioned way."

"Or how about Monaco?" Liam grinned.

"Even better," Zayn cooed as he snuggled into Liam's side, "This is why I love you," Liam smiled down at his boyfriend and place a gentle peck on his forehead.

"What would you get with your newfound fortune?"

"A private island, complete with my own personal horde of golden bronzed gods."

"Think about it," Louis sighed, "The finest food and drink whenever we want, gorgeous men at our beck and call, never wanting for anything. Oh, it sounds like heaven!"

Liam placed a hand on his shoulder, "I didn't realise heaven was so debaucherous."

Louis thoroughly ignored him, "We'd be famous," Louis breathed. Yes, he could see it now. The grand premiers and red carpets, driving fancy cars with chilled champagne in the back, adoring fans and fawning paparazzi... If Louis had ever made it on the stage, it would have been all he ever wanted.

"Don't you have to be famous _for_ something?" Liam asked, "Like a singer or an actor?"

"Can't we be famous for being rich?" Louis asked, lazily stirring his drink, "The aristocracy does it all the time."

"Why don't we just audition for the X-Factor?" Liam and Zayn looked at him for a moment before bursting out into laughter. Louis chuckled along too. Them? On trash telly?  That would be a laugh.

"Well Lou, if none of those things work out," Zayn smirked, “King’s Cross is always busy at night.”

“Zayn Malik! I do not have to resort to prostitution to save my theatre!”

“Are you sure about that?” Liam giggled.

“Do you want a martini bath too?” Louis threatened, holding his martini glass menacingly. Liam held up his hands in mock surrender.

A moment of silence passed before Louis let his head fall into his hands, “Do you think that would actually work though?” he whined.

Liam rolled his eyes, “Oh, Louis! Stop that! You’re being dramatic.”

“There’s something new,” Zayn muttered.

Louis shot a glare in his direction before turning back to Liam, “I’m serious Li! The landlord wants the money by the end of the summer.”

Liam’s eyes grew to the size of saucers while Zayn nearly choked on his drink, “Fuck,” Zayn said, wiping vodka from his lips.

“Can’t they give you more time? Certainly that’s not too much to ask?”

“Ask?" Louis scoffed, "I fucking begged them!”

Liam gave Zayn a concerned look, “What did they say?”

“They told me to piss off,” Louis snarled, "We just have to hope that _Mamma Mia_ does well."

"That's quite a risk Lou," Liam warned. As if Louis didn't know that. Normally the summer shows brought in about five thousand pounds, but after he paid the cast and the crew and the assistants and just about anyone else who was there, there was only about four thousand extra. Then that money usually paid Louis' rent and utilities. Basically, that was his sole source of income. And even if he put all those funds towards his debt... well, it wasn't very promising.

"It's the only option we have Li," Louis said gravely, staring blankly down at his martini, "This show has to do well or else the Tomlinson Theatre will be out of business by the end of the year."

A stunned quiet gathered over the table. Louis was thankful for the pounding music in the background to distract from the table's silence. Wordlessly, Zayn raised his glass, “A toast, to Cox and Co. May they stick their forty thousand quid up their pretentious arses!”

A smile tugged in Louis' face, “Here, here!” he said, toasting their glasses together. Louis brought his drink to his lips and he felt a warm feeling inside him as he saw Liam and Zayn doing the same. It might have just been the alcohol, but Louis chose to accredit it to the warmth of friendship.

"What’s all this?” came a voice from outside the booth. Louis turned to see James Corden, the owner of the bar. He was a plump man with dirty blonde hair who always wore a large, happy smile. Louis hadn’t seen him much since the musical had gotten so busy, but Zayn and Liam frequently brought back James’s regards from the club, “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen the three of you riled up this much,” James continued.

“Hello James!” Liam called over the music.

"Hello boys! How are my favourite customers doing?"

"Horrendous." Louis chirped, "And yourself?"

James' brow furrowed, "Still not any closer to saving the theatre I see."

"No, but that's why we're here. To drink away our problems." Louis said as he downed the last of his martini.

"Drinks you are paying for, yes?"

"One way or another."

James shook his head, "Why do I put up with you lot?"

"Because you love us?" Zayn suggested.

"Because men come drooling after you into the club. And that-" James said, "Is the secret to success."

“Well, what you do know Li?" Louis quipped with a roll of the eyes, "All our problems are solved! Now, it's time to dance!”

Louis hopped out of his seat and made his way to the dance floor while Liam and Zayn shrugged their shoulders and followed behind them. People crowded together on the dance floor, one large mass of dancing bodies. Identities were lost here, everyone was completely anonymous. That was what Louis loved about this place. He let the beat of the music sweep him away, let it sweep everything away. No theatre, no lost love, not even twenty thousand quid could touch him here. Here he was safe, away from everything.

Louis danced. He loved dancing. The music strummed through his veins. He was vaguely aware of Liam and Zayn wrapped around each other about a metre away. They moved against each other, clothing riding up to show their glistening skin. Bloody attractive people.

Sweat dripped down Louis’ back as he twisted and swayed along with the music. He breathed in the sultry air as other men’s body heat radiated around him. A slight tug on his jeans made Louis turn his head. A tall man with jet black hair had his fingers twisted through Louis’ belt straps and held Louis’ arse to his hips. Louis looked him up and down, tight denim jeans, broad chest, deep almond eyes, he would do.

Louis let a slow smile creep across his face. Arching his back, Louis pressed his arse against the stranger’s front. The stranger chuckled as he let his hands travel to Louis’ hips. Louis let out a sigh of relief, it felt so good to have another’s body pressed up against him. To be held, to be wanted, Louis craved it.

The stranger’s breath tickled Louis’ neck. He closed his eyes as the stranger began to rock their hips back and forth. Louis snaked a hand to clutch at the stranger’s neck. The man dipped his head to slide a tongue across Louis’ neck. Louis let out a moan as the slick sensation moved to the underside of his ear.

“You like that?” the voice rasped, hot in Louis’ ear, “That’s just the beginning baby.”

Louis winced as the stranger began to gnaw at his neck, “I’m gonna fuck you so hard baby,” he continued. Louis rolled his eyes and manoeuvred his neck away from the man’s teeth. The stranger’s hands slipped lower and lower on Louis’ hips till they came to rest on the insides of Louis’ thighs.

The man pulled him closer, “You’re gonna open these beautiful legs for me.”

“Hey,” Louis said, swatting his hands away, “That’s enough.”

Louis felt something hard digging into his back, “Ima fuck you,” the stranger emphasized with a snap of his hips, “Right in this hot arse.”

“Enough!” Louis thrust his elbow into the stranger’s hard on. With a high pitched yelp, the stranger jumped away from Louis, doubled over and clutched at his crotch. A group of men circled around them, gazing at the scene.

“Louis!” Zayn called, dragging Liam through the crowd, “Lou, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Him,” Louis glanced over at the man still squirming on the dance floor, “I’m not so sure about.”

“Lou, let’s get out of here,” Liam said, pulling him to the door. Louis stumbled along with him, Zayn’s hand on his back. The alcohol was beginning to take effect as Louis’ world began to spin. Neon lights and shiny bodies blurred together in a mass of colours and noise. The three of them stumbled into the deserted street, still breathing hard.

“Are you okay mate?” Zayn said, checking Louis’ face, “Did that fucker do something to you?”

Louis brushed Zayn’s hand away, “He got a little handsy, but I handled it.”

Zayn raised his eyebrows, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes mother, I’m fine.”

“Do you need us to walk you home?” Liam asked.

“Li, I’m not that pissed, yeah? I can make it on my own for a few blocks.”

“Promise that you will call us if you need anything.”

“Promise,” Louis slurred, “And I expect to see you both bright and early tomorrow morning.”

“Alright Lou,” Zayn chuckled, “Be safe.”

Louis waved them off as he took off down the street. After a few moments, Louis began to whistle and skip, happily lost in his own alcohol infused world.

Liam and Zayn watched their intoxicated friend skip down the way, “Are you sure he’ll be okay?” Liam whispered into Zayn’s ear.

Zayn hesitated, gaze still lingering on the figure disappearing into the night, “He should be fine. If not, Rory could always take care of him again.”

Liam raised an eyebrow, “Rory? You mean the bum who lives on the corner of Spring and Lion?”

“The very one. He was very good to Louis when we went to visit my parents last year.”

Liam gaped at his boyfriend, “You told me Stan was looking after him!”

“Well, he was. Until Lou wandered off and found himself in Rory’s care for a night or two.” Zayn admitted.

Liam let out a weak chuckle, “We are terrible mates.”

“That only depends on who you ask,” Zayn said, a smile creeping on his face. Liam shook his head as he laced their fingers together. They made their way back to their flat in peaceful silence, quietly taking in the surrounds of the night and each other’s company. Liam stole a glance at his beautiful boyfriend.

Zayn caught his eyes with a smile, “What’s the matter, love?”

“Nothing,” Liam grinned, “I just love you.”

Zayn’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink, “I love you too, Li.”

Liam planted a soft kiss on Zayn’s cheek. Zayn smiled. Liam smiled back. In that moment, everything was perfect.

~

It took him a couple tries before Louis could fit the key into the lock. He stumbled into worn down flat more than a little intoxicated. Rory had offered Louis a toothless smile as he proceeded to skip and sing through the street. Rory had even decided to hum along. God bless that man’s soul.

Grabbing the mail from his porch, Louis turned the lock his door for the night. At least this was one door that wouldn’t fall apart. That being said, his flat was a mess. Clothes were scattered all across the room and dirty dishes piled up in randoms places. He missed his old flat. It was spacious and the ceiling didn't leak when it rained. Depositing the mail on the kitchen table, Louis’ eye caught a letter lying open on the table. The letter was worn with folding lines and its familiar professional script made Louis’ stomach turn. He didn’t even have to read it, he had it all but memorized now:

_To whom it may concern,_

_The property of the late Mr. Tomlinson that was willed to his grandchild, Louis William Tomlinson, in September of 2013 holds a forty thousand pound debt that was accumulated during the ownership of the late Mr. Tomlinson in the form of unpaid rent and interest on said debt. The law requires that Mr. Louis Tomlinson repays the remaining debt of twenty thousand pounds of the deceased in regard to the building 902 Crown Street, commonly known as the Tomlinson Theatre, within the time limit set by Anne Cox, the current and rightful owner to 902 Crown Street. Failure to do so will result in the seizure of the property and all rights passed on to Cox and Co. Further disciplinary action may be enforced depending on the wishes of and evidence presented by Cox and Co. Let it be noted that the offer to relinquish all right to the property in exchange for the nullification for all debts owed to Cox and Co. still stands._

_Sincerely,_

_The legal team of Anne Cox and Company_

It had been two and half years since his grandfather had passed away, and Louis was running out of time. Sure, his grandfather had made some mistakes, everyone did. Louis certainly had. And yet, this debt was getting ready to crush him. The fact of the matter was this: Louis didn’t have forty thousand quid. He had done everything in his power to find the money. He couldn't give up the theatre. It would be like giving up a part of himself.

He was so fucked up the arse.

Louis wandered into his bedroom and threw himself onto the duvet. God, he was so pathetic. He should have let that tall handsome stranger fuck him. He was hot, and judging from the boner that was digging into Louis’ back that entire song, he wanted Louis. Badly.

In reality, Louis ran away. Anonymous fucks just weren’t doing it anymore. Louis would always wake up with a naked stranger in his bed and a nagging feeling of disgust. At the same time, Louis couldn’t see himself in an actual relationship. Louis spent most of his time at the theatre or with Liam and Zayn at James'. There just didn’t seem to be any time for another person in his life.

Not to mention the emotional baggage that came along with it. Louis could see it already. For the first few months, they would be in heaven. Lovey-dovey like Liam and Zayn, lost in their own little world. Then things would slowly disintegrate. Not unlike the stage boards. First, it would just be petty disagreements, then it would turn into fights and screaming and things being thrown across the room.

Until one of them would inevitably find comfort in the embrace of someone else’s arms. Louis couldn’t go through that again. Even five years later and very drunk, Louis could still see the scene in perfect clarity.

She ran up to him as they exited the terminal. Louis hung behind, chatting with Liam when he spotted her. Long blonde hair flew behind her as scamper in her pink wedges. Her entire being reeked of spoiled child and a lavish upbringing. Louis didn’t like her. That was before she reached the boy. _His_ boy. She flung her tiny arms around his broad shoulders with a lilting giggle. Louis scrunched his nose in distaste. Now he really didn’t like her.

She whispered something into the boy’s ear before she brought his face to her’s. Louis the scene in slow motion. Her pink lacquered closed the space between their faces until their lips connected. Lips Louis had kissed only hours before.

Louis watched in shock, waiting for the boy to pull back, to push her away, anything. But nothing happened. The boy stood there, letting her pink manicured fingers run through his curly hair. In that moment, Louis felt his heart break. It felt like his chest was being ripped in two, his whole being felt empty and hollow.

He loved that boy. And that boy loved him. At least, that’s what he said. The liar, he was a liar. And Louis fell for it. Shit, he was such a bloody idiot. That’s when Louis ran, not caring that he was still holding the boy’s bag. He ran out of that airport like it was on fire, like the ceiling was about to collapse at any second. His lungs burned as tears streamed down his face. He didn’t stop, he didn’t look back. He never wanted to see that boy again.

And he hadn’t. It had been five years since that god-awful summer and Louis was fine. The whole experience wasn’t emotionally scarring or anything. Louis was fine.

Louis groaned as he pulled the duvet over his head. Sleep, he needed to sleep. Sleep was good. Louis squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to let the thoughts of that summer slip away. As he drifted off to sleep, Louis could have sworn he heard the sounds of Hungarian peddlers somewhere not too far off in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'll leave you with that. And just as a side note, the playlist I made is the original London cast of Mamma Mia, but I would also like to say that I really enjoy the movie soundtrack for Mamma Mia as well! I figured I'd use the London cast recordings because they had all the songs, where the movie soundtrack excluded some. Also, I'm sure they are some purists out there who were not pleased with the quality of the singing in the movie, so this one's for you! Anyhow, thank you so much for your lovely comments and encouragement! It means so much to me. Until then!  
> \- Luna


	3. Mamma Mia!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Act I, Scene II - [Mamma Mia](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xY1Kd7DMWCs&list=PLDkplS6oiIIk2AD5Yrnn_xfdjusmECKCg&index=3)
> 
>   
>   
>    
> I've been cheated by you since I don't know when  
> So I made up my mind, it must come to an end  
> Look at me now, will I ever learn?  
> I don't know how but I suddenly lose control  
> There's a fire within my soul  
> Just one look and I can hear a bell ring  
> One more look and I forget everything,
> 
> Mamma mia, here I go again  
> My my, how can I resist you?  
> Mamma mia, does it show again?  
> My my, just how much I've missed you  
> Yes, I've been brokenhearted  
> Blue since the day we parted  
> Why, why did I ever let you go?  
> Mamma mia, now I really know,  
> My my, I could never let you go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since a lot of this story revolves around the Late Late bar and club, I'd like to take a moment to remember those at the Pulse Massacre. Rest in Pride and Keep on Dancing.  
> On a happier note, please enjoy... :)

The hum of voices echoed throughout the theatre. Gentle notes drifting from the piano to mingle with the chorus. The familiar tune of the vocal warm-up melting in with the harmony of voices:

_Mamma made me mash my M &M’s!_

_Mamma made me mash my M &M’s!_

Louis plucked out the simple arpeggio on the ivory keys, “Articulate!” he called, “Move your mouths!” Louis hit the next note on the scale, “Higher!”

Looking up from the piano, he scanned his cast as they crowded together. The ambitious ones always elbowed their way to the front of the piano for warm-up, leaving the voices of the timid to be drowned out in the back. Macey stood to Louis’ right, her rich alto voice enveloping the chorus. Amelia stood at the head of the piano, she was the leading soprano in the company. Her angelic voice matched her cherubic face and pale blonde hair. Their two voices blended together in perfect harmony, one light and airy, the other deep and grounded.

Louis smiled to himself, this was his most promising cast yet. If they couldn’t raise forty thousand pounds, then nobody could. “Faster!” he said as quickened the tempo.

The group took a deep breath as Louis cued them in:

_MammamadememashmyM &M’s!_

_MammamadememashmyM &M’s!_

Louis danced his fingers across the keys with a grand flourish, bringing the warm-up to a close. A polite applause followed as Louis stood up from the bench, “Okay,” Louis breathed, resting a hand on the piano, “That was pretty good you lot. Just remember to watch the sliding and to push on those high notes. They’re falling flat I don’t want anyone destroying their throat until after the performance.” there was a light chuckle from the crowd, much to Louis’ bemusement, “Alright now, places in ten! We’re going from the top of the show!”

The actors scrambled away from the piano and into their dressing rooms to take one last glance at their lines. It was the first day off-book and Louis was fearing the worst. Macey would be fine, she was the best Donna he’d seen in awhile. But Amelia, his Sophie, couldn’t tell stage left from stage right to save her life. Other than a killer set of vocal chords, there wasn’t much going on upstairs.

“Louis!” someone called. Louis turned to see Macey jogged over to him in her tattered denim dungarees and her blonde hair spilling out of her lopsided ponytail, “There’s a bloke that’s asking for you out front,” she said, casting a thumb to the door.

Louis tilted his head in surprise, “For me?”

“No, the other Louis Tomlinson who runs the theatre.”

Louis raised his eyebrows in mock offence, “Funny,” he deadpanned, taking a moment to let the sarcasm drip from his voice, “Go let him in, it’s rude to leave a man standing at the door.”

“Oh, I already did,” Macey said with a dismissive wave of the hand.

“Macey!” Louis gasped, “You shouldn’t let strangers into the theatre without my permission, he could be a thief for all you know!”

“Even if he was, Lou,” she said sweetly, “There’s nothing here that’s worth stealing.”

Louis let out an indignant squawk as Macey strutted back to her place in the wings with a satisfied smirk. Liam came up from behind him, chuckling at the exchange, “Are you sure she’s not your long-lost sister?”

Louis shrugged his shoulders, “Eh, got five already. What's one more? She does remind me a bit of Lottie though. Anyhow, I best be off to greet our mysterious guest.” Louis said with a wiggle of his brows.

“Nothing like a little mystery in the morning. ”I’ll be working on that light that burned out in the lobby,” Liam said, motioning towards the ceiling,

“That’s my handsome handyman!” Louis grinned, giving him a pat on the cheek.

“I’m a props manager.” Liam laughed, shoving Louis’ hand away.

Louis waved a hand, “Same difference. And Zayn,” he called out to his stage manager, who was busy talking into his headset. Louis waved his hand to get his attention, “Go ahead and start the show, I’ll be back soon.”

Zayn nodded in understanding before turning to the scrambling actors, “Come on people! Let’s look alive, please!” he shouted, waving the cast along.

Satisfied that everything would be taken care of, Louis took off down the corridor. The theatre’s side door led to a flight of stairs that connected to the balcony seats and emptied in the theatre lobby. Liam’s scaffolding was set up around the lobby where all the overhead lights had burned out last week. The metal and wood contraption blocked the lobby's two side entrances as it arched over the centre doorway. Louis could have made his life easier and gone through the centre entrance, but when was easy ever fun? Slinging one leg over a crossbar, Louis was momentarily reminded of when he use to muck around on the Doncaster playground during his primary school days. The monkey bars had always been one of his favourites, even if he had split his lip open a time or two.

Louis was half-way through a cross rail when he finally spotted someone in milling around the lobby. He was dressed in dark fitted slacks and a deep navy blazer. Behind his back, he held a wide-brimmed velvet hat between his long, delicate manicured fingers. He paced the lobby in his expensive leather shoes, travelling in slow methodical circles. Intriguing. Louis couldn’t help but notice how the trousers clung to a firm pair of thighs and how the blazer perfectly accented his chocolate curls-

Louis did a double take. Chocolate curls? No, there were other men in the world who had brown, curly hair. Besides, it had been- what -five years? There was absolutely no way-

Then he turned around. And Louis’ heart stopped. There he was. The same sharp green eyes, same strong jaw, same pink cheeks, and rosy lips. Even his hair was the same, albeit being a bit longer. There he was. Biting his lip, like he always did. Running a hand through his curls, like he always did.  _There he was._

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Louis released he’d been frozen halfway over a beam for quite awhile. It was not the best position to be caught staring. Should he slowly sneak away, or run like a madman? Louis opted with the later. As fast as he possibly could, Louis threw himself off the crossbar and dashed to the stairwell. He flew up and over the steps until he came to rest on the second landing. Louis’ lungs burned with his attempt to keep his breathing quiet. What on earth was his failed summer romance doing in his theatre?

There was still the faint sound of stiff soles hitting the marble floor. This had to be a mistake. Louis must have been hallucinating, there was no way he could be here. Yes, that was it. Louis was seeing things, right? Louis eyed the scaffolding in front of him. There was only one way to find out… Louis took a tentative step onto the wooden boards. Much to his relief, they only gave the tiniest groan under his weight. Louis grasped the metal railing as he gently hoisted himself completely onto the scaffolding. From up here, Louis could see the peeling wallpaper and the horde of spider webs that collected in all the crevices of the ceiling. God, no wonder Liam spent all day up here.

As Louis climbed the scaffolding, he felt the structure sway beneath his feet. Louis gripped the railing, his heart momentarily caught in his throat. He began to breathe again as the structure began to settle. Louis would be lying if he said it didn’t make him just a little nervous, being this high up on a rickety rig. He would prefer not to fall to his death today. When he reached the top of the scaffolding, Louis ducked below and peeked over the rail. He blamed the thudding of his heart on the climb and nothing else.

The boy in the expensive clothing was still pacing in the lobby. Although Louis wasn’t sure he could call him a boy anymore. He was probably a head taller than Louis now, he always had ridiculously tall. His face had lost any trace of baby fat, now it was all sharp angles and harsh edges. He didn't look like a child anymore. Which made sense. After all, it had been five years. Which would have made him… twenty-two years old, Louis realized. _Twenty-two_ , Louis thought to himself, _shit_. It felt like only yesterday that Louis was eighteen, travelling around the mainland, and fancying an adorable sixteen-year-old boy.

And even though he still looked very much the same, Louis could see how much he had changed, too. Not only had he grown into his body (a very nice little body, Louis might add), but he seemed so much more… serious. His emerald eyes lacked the lustre they'd had before. And as he paced the lobby, those eyes never left the floor. There was no excess movement in his walk, his limbs were stiff and muscles wound tight as a wire. He looked like a little porcelain doll, with a perfectly painted face and glassy eyes. Like Louis could shatter him with the tip of his finger.

“Louis?”

Louis jumped and whipped around at the sound of his name. Liam, having donned his tool belt and work boots, stood to Louis' right, eyeing at him with a curious expression on his face. How in the hell had he gotten here so quickly? And so quietly to boot.

Liam opened his mouth to speak again, but Louis shushed him before any sound could come out. Liam looked at him like he was mad. Louis felt a blush coming to his cheeks as he curled himself into a ball, willing himself to be small, just this once. After that, he could grow a few more centimetres. God, how could Liam have caught him in this situation? Louis wanted to die.

Liam scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. Slowly and, most importantly, silently crouched beside Louis, “Umm, Lou?” Liam whispered, “Why are you hiding in the scaffolding?”

“Umm, I just- erm-”

While Louis scrambled to speak, Liam cast an unamused glance towards the squatting figure at his feet, "Lou, I really have no idea what you're doing up here, but this isn't the place to be playing. I have a lot of work to do-"  Suddenly, movement in the lobby caught Liam's attention. Louis felt his insides churn as Liam’s eyes widened in recognition. Walking over to the railing, Liam stared down in disbelief, “Holy shit, it that-”

“Harry Styles?” Louis grimaced, “Yeah, it is.”

“But not our Harry Styles,” Liam gasped in shock. Liam looked back to Louis, his eyes wide and unbelieving, “It’s been five years. We never even kept in contact. Why… ?”

“I don’t know Liam,” Louis hissed as he pulled at Liam's pant leg, “Now, if you could keep it down so he doesn’t notice us having a nice little tea party up here, that would be much appreciated.”

Liam cocked an eyebrow, but crouched beside Louis none the less, “ _I_ wasn’t the one who was spying on him.”

Louis gaped at him indignantly, “I was doing no such thing!”

“Really?” Liam rolled his eyes as Louis shushed him again, “Then please explain to me,” he said waving a hand towards the lobby, “What exactly were you doing by discreetly ogling at Harry from thirty meters above him?”

“I- I wasn’t ogling,” Louis mumbled. Liam’s eyebrows shot up, “I wasn’t spying either!” Louis added quickly, his ears growing hot under Liam's critical glare. Louis peeked over the scaffolding to see Harry still making his laps around the lobby. He paused to check the sparkling watch on his slender wrist. Louis tore his eyes away from the boy and back to Liam's raised brow. With a huff, Louis rose from his crouching position and brushed the dust off himself, “Now if you’ll excuse me," he said, "I need to get back to cast," he said, brushing woodchips from his jumper, "I have a musical to direct.”

“Louis! Don’t step there, the board is loose-”

Liam’s warning came too late as a sizeable piece of plywood collapsed under Louis’ foot. For a moment, Louis was suspended in mid-air, with Liam’s face gradually contorting into one of sheer panic as the board rotated in slow motion beneath Louis' feet. Then, inevitably, things started to speed up. Louis was falling. The scaffolding flew by him in a blur of wood and steel. Louis could feel the air rushing through his hair and the desperate beating of his heart. Is this how he would die? Fuck. Quickly, he squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for the impact.

Only, the impact never came. Instead of the cold marble floor, Louis was met with a pair of strong sturdy arms one around his back and the other under his knees. For one sickening moment, Louis was still falling. He blindly grabbed whatever he could to soften the fall. In the next moment, he felt himself decelerate and come to a halt. For a split second, Louis held his breath, still waiting for his bones to crash against the lobby floor. Louis cautiously opened an eye to peer at the floor. Much to his relief, it was no longer hurtling towards him at 9.8 meters per second. The funny thing was, as he stared at the floor, he couldn’t help but notice the pair of fancy leather shoes that stood under him.

“Oh my god!” Liam screeched from above. He braced himself on the metal railing as his upper body leaned over the edge of the scaffolding. Liam looked down to the lobby with absolute horror written all over his face. Louis might be a little freaked out too if his best mate had just fallen to his potential death, "Louis," Liam said breathlessly, "Are you alright?"

Louis took a shallow breath. All limbs intact? Check. No broken bones? Check. Yeah, sure. He was okay. A little bit shell-shocked, but okay.

Suddenly, there was a husky voice above him, “Louis?”

It was in that moment that Louis' felt his stomach drop to the pit of the earth. It was a similar feeling to the one he'd right before his impromptu flying lesson. Only this time, it was what was above him that terrified him. Louis cast a timid glance upward. There, outlined by curly strands of chocolate hair, were two emerald eyes boring into his very soul. Those eyes widened in disbelief as he looked at Louis.

“Harry,” Louis breathed. Harry looked about as stunned to see Louis as Louis was to see him. And this was certainly an unexpected reintroduction: Louis curled up in Harry’s arms and Louis’ arm draped over Harry’s neck. Despite his best efforts, Louis couldn’t help but notice Harry’s impressive jawline or his rock-hard abdominal muscles or how he smelled like citrus and lavender or how mere centimetres separated their lips-

“Would you two stop eye-fucking each other out in the open. It’s right disgusting, mates.”

Louis turned a bright shade of scarlet as Harry looked away, “Niall…” Harry warned, still holding Louis in his arms. Niall, Louis thought he recognized that booming Irish accent.

“Niall? Niall Horan?” Liam called from above.

Niall titled his head back to look up to the scaffolding. “The one and only!” he called back, a devilish grin spread across his face when he spotted his old friend, “Is that you up there Payno? Don’t you think about jumpin’ down here as well.”

While Niall and Liam shouted at each other from across the room, Harry carefully lowered Louis out of his arms. The rush of Harry’s skin over the pads of Louis’ fingertips sent a shiver down Louis’ back. An unpleasant one, he would like to point out. When Louis first placed his feet on the lobby floor, his knees buckled, still weak from the fall.

Harry offered a hand for support, “Are you alright?” The question held such a formal rigidity, something that was very un-Harry-like. It struck Louis as rather odd.

Louis steadied himself, pointedly ignoring Harry’s outstretched hand, “Yes. I’m fine,” he said coolly. Harry slowly retracted his hand, giving Louis a stony glare. Louis returned it in kind. It wasn’t his idea to fall, quite literally, back into Harry’s life. In fact, it was something he would have liked to avoid at all costs.

Suddenly, Zayn’s voice came echoing through the lobby. “Liam!” Zayn came frantically running into the lobby a moment later, his eyes immediately darting to the scaffolding, “Are you alright? I heard a loud crash, I thought maybe the scaffolding…”

Taking a quick glance around the room, Zayn’s jaw dropped open, “Niall?” he said, running over to the blonde Irishman, “What the bloody hell are you doing here?” Zayn cried, wrapping his friend in a large hug.

Niall gave his mate a quick eye roll before he clapped Zayn on the back, “Nice to see you too, you git.”

Zayn barked out a laugh as he pulled back from Niall, “You know what I meant, you twat.” Niall grinned back at him. “But seriously, though,” Zayn asked, bring his eyes up to Liam and the scaffolding, “What was all that ruckus earlier? I thought the scaffolding might have fallen.”

“It did,” Liam confirmed.

Zayn’s face paled noticeably, “Are you alright love?”

“I’m fine Z,” Liam assured him as he began to descend the scaffolding, “However,” he continued, casting a finger over to Louis, “He’s the one you should be worried about. Lucky for him, though, he has a guardian angel.”

“That must be one piss poor angel,” Niall chimed, "Right Harry?"

Zayn’s head snapped up at the mention of Harry’s name. He did a quick scan of the room before his gaze finally settled on Harry. Zayn's face broke out into a wide grin as he made a mad dash over to the younger man. Zayn flung his arms around Harry’s broad shoulders, enveloping him into a massive hug. The two of them had bonded rather quickly that summer as well, Louis recalled. So much so, that he and Liam were forced to bond through mutual jealousy.

“Harry! It’s good to see you mate!” Zayn cried gleefully, still wrapped around Harry’s shoulders.

Zayn grinned madly as Harry patted him politely on the back while they pulled away, “You too Zayn,” said Harry, “I missed you a lot.”

“It would have been easier to stay in touch if you’d left us your bloody contact information,” Liam called as he hopped off the scaffolding, firmly planting two feet on the ground.

“Yeah mate,” Zayn agreed, looking into his mate’s eyes, “You just upped and left the airport without so much as a word. What the hell was that?”

Harry paused, eyes continuing to stare straight ahead, “There were some unexpected developments,” Harry stated, his voice completely devoid of all emotion, “That required my immediate attention.”

Zayn gave him a perplexed look and Louis could see the questions swimming in Liam’s eyes as well. Nobody pushed the matter further. Liam and Harry shared their greetings while Zayn and Niall chatted by the doors. Louis stood by the scaffolding, shifting anxiously from foot to foot. This was not how he expected his morning to go.

Eventually, Louis shuffled over to Zayn and Niall, “Hiya mate,” Louis said timidly.

“Lou!” Niall boomed, slinging an arm over Louis’ shoulder, “It’s been too long!” The blonde Irishman was almost exactly the same height as him, which was one of the main reason he and Louis got along. They had exchanged a few messages over the years. The occasional, ‘How are you?’ or ‘Anything new?’ Last he heard, Niall was living somewhere in the country working as some wealthy sod’s personal assistant. What was he doing here?

Louis returned his gesture with a grin, “Agreed mate. How have you been?”

“Alright, mate! How about you? Is this the grand theatre we’ve heard so much about?” he asked, gesturing towards the theatre lobby.

Louis hesitated, “Uh, yeah,” he squeaked, “All mine.” _For now,_ he added in the back of his mind. But Niall didn't need to know that.

“Well, that’s fantastic mate!” Niall said with a slap on the back, “You always said you wanted to be on stage.”

“Except he’s usually sitting in the front row,” Zayn chimed in, “Directing and all.”

“What?” Niall exclaimed, “But you had such a nice voice! I was sure I was going to have to fly to Manhattan to see you on Broadway or at the Tony’s!”

“Yeah, well,” Louis sighed, “Funny how life goes. And what about you? Do you still play the guitar?”

Niall shrugged, “Just for kicks every now and then. Work keeps me busy.”

“How is that?” Liam interjected with a smirk, “What’s he like? Your fancy aristocrat master?” he giggled.

Niall took a nervous swallow, “Ahh, well, yes- he’s um-”

Suddenly, Louis’ ears caught the sound of notes drifting from the theatre…

_Mamma mia, here I go again,_

_My my, how can I resist you?_

_Mamma mia, does it show again,_

_My my, just how much I've missed you?_

“My god Zayn!” Louis shrieked, making Niall jump, “How long have they been running that by themselves?” he asked, frantically pointing towards the theatre.

Zayn rolled his eyes, “Calm down Lou, it’s only been ten minutes since I left them.”

“I know but-” Louis sputtered.

Zayn silenced him with a hand, “They’re big kids Lou, they’ll be fine.”

Louis huffed and threw Zayn an inappropriate hand sign as he headed for the door.

Before he could reach it, Louis felt someone grab his wrist, “Louis, wait.”

Louis turned to see Harry clasping his hand. A wave of sudden anger burst from Louis core, “What?” Louis asked as he yanked his wrist from Harry’s hand, mustering all the ice his voice could produce.

There was only the slightest twitch of Harry’s eyebrows to show that Louis’ comment had hurt. The rest of his face remained indifferent, but Louis could tell that his words had stung. He looked away, he refusing to feel guilty about the pain that Harry hid so very well. Let him be hurt. God knows Louis was a mess for months after Harry left. This was only fair, retribution so to say. Right?

Harry’s eyes scanned Louis’ face, taking in every tiny detail. Louis set his mouth into a hard line. Louis didn’t know what Harry wanted from him, but whatever it was, he wasn’t getting it.

“It’s-” Harry continued, “It’s been a long time.”

“Yes,” Louis confirmed. They both stood there, not quite sure what to do. Finally, Harry grudgingly opened his arms to Louis. Louis stared back incredulously. _A hug? Is he seriously offering me a goddamn hug?_ Louis was half-tempted to laugh in his face and strut of the lobby with his hips swinging. The other, very small part of him, wanted to do…. Well, something else.

Against his better judgment, Louis took a small step forward. _What in the bloody hell are you doing?_ His conscience screamed at him. That was an excellent question indeed. Louis always felt small in Harry’s arms. Now was no different, with his arms barely able to reach around Harry’s middle. Harry’s arms, on the other hand, were long and stiff as they wrapped around Louis’ back. A slight pressure held him close to Harry’s chest, so close Louis could hear the rhythmic thud of Harry’s heart. So he this bastard did have a heart, good to know.

Liam, Zayn, and Niall gazed upon the scene with shared intrigue. After a pause, Niall broke the silence, “Oh my god, it’s so awkward. Make it stop.”

That was all the encouragement Louis needed to leap out of Harry’s arms. Taking quick steps backwards, Louis put as much distance between himself and Harry as he possibly could. Harry stood for a moment, gazes locked with Louis.

“Excuse me,” Louis scrambled, “I have to go.” Then he ran, with only blind panic spurring him on.

“Louis!” Liam called from behind, “Damnit Louis, wait!”

Louis ignored his mate as he made a beeline to the theatre doors. Louis felt the shame rising to his cheeks. This was ridiculous, he was running like a damn primary schooler. Why was Harry here? God, it hurt so much. Harry was beautiful and healthy and so very obviously dead inside. And Louis, being the emotional fuck show he was, felt guilty. He should have nothing to feel guilty about, Harry was the one who left him, threw him away like spoiled milk. Yet, as he sprinted out of the lobby, Louis felt the familiar ache in his chest known as guilt.

Louis rushed past the archway, pausing to catch his breath, “Louis!” Liam called again, placing a hand on Louis’ shoulder, “What in the bloody hell was that?” Liam whispered.

Louis pushed off the wall and continued down the side aisle, “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Piss off!” Zayn said, running up to meet them, “You looked like you wanted to slap him and then drag him off to bed!” Louis paused for a moment, that was not an inaccurate statement within itself. Not that he would ever admit that.

Louis shook the thoughts from of his head, quickening his pace, “I hate him,” he finally stated.

Zayn stopped to give Liam an exasperated look before looking back to Louis, “Lou, that’s probably the worst lie I’ve ever heard. I don’t believe that for one damn minute. Louis wait!”

“He strung me along when I-” Louis wasn’t ready to talk about this. Goddamn these _feelings_ , “Like I said,” Louis continued quickly, “I hate him.”

“I don’t think you could hate Harry if your life depended on it.”

Louis looked at his friends defiantly, “Just watch me.”

Zayn swore, “You are so bloody stubborn, Louis,” he hissed.

Louis crossed his arms and screwed his face into one of stubborn resentment. Zayn returned the glare with matched intensity. Eventually, Liam spoke up, “Do you want us to ask him to leave?”

Louis broke his stare with Zayn as he whipped towards Liam, “What?” he breathed.

Liam placed a comforting hand on Louis’ shoulder, “Lou, I know we give you crap, but first and foremost, we are your mates. We know you and he didn’t,” Liam hesitated, “End on the best of terms.” he said carefully.

“Yeah, Lou,” Zayn added, “We’re always here for you. So if you need us to, we can get him out of your hair.”

“No,” Louis whispered after a moment of silence, “Just let it be.”

Liam gave him a hard look, “Are you sure Louis?”

Louis paused. Was he? With one word he could have Harry out of his life for good. Louis didn’t know how to handle Harry, especially the twenty-two-year-old version. Things could get very messy, very quickly.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Don’t make a fuss.” Louis would probably regret this later. But for now, he really needed to tend to his musical. They were already nearing the end of Act I, Louis really should have been back long ago. Just one more way Harry Styles had fucked up his morning.

The pair watched Louis as walked away, “I told you,” whispered Zayn.

“I don’t know Zayn,” Liam said, “I just want to make sure he’s okay,”

“Did you not see how he was looking at him? That flame hasn’t burned out just yet.”

“Are you talking about Louis or Harry?”

Zayn didn’t respond at first, merely resting a chin on his fist, “I have a feeling this is going to be interesting.”

~

Louis was tense the entire rehearsal. He kept his eyes straight ahead, refusing to look away. Despite that, Louis couldn’t pay attention during the entire performance. They could have been in the middle of Cats and Louis wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference.

Harry presence engulfed the room. Even sitting the very back row, Louis could feel his gaze. It was unsettling. Why was he here? And why with Niall of all people? Harry hadn’t left anyone with his contact information, he had simply disappeared. Right along with his pretty, stupid, blonde girlfriend.

And now, five years later, he shows up on Louis’ doorstep out of the blue. Why? Louis had too many questions and not enough answers. It was driving him absolutely mad.

“Louis!” Louis jumped at Macey’s shrill voice.

“Love,” Louis said, rubbing his ear, “I’m right here. There is no need to shout.”

“Apparently, there is because I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last three minutes.”

“Oh,” Louis felt his cheeks redden. Had he really been that distracted? He must have looked a fool, “Sorry. What did you want?”

Macey stared at him in disbelief, “Louis, what is wrong with you?”

Louis ran a hand over his face, “Nothing’s wrong, everything's just- peachy.”

“You’re acting like a cranky two-year-old.”

“Did you come over here to ask me something or just for the pleasure of insulting me?”

“Neither,” she spat, “Your stalker is waiting by the door. Just thought you should know.” With that, she turned on her heel and strode out the room. Louis ran a hand through his hair as he groaned. He hadn’t meant to snap, he was just so fucking one edge. He’d have to apologize to Macey later.

Pushing himself out of his seat, Louis grudgingly made his way to the back of the theatre. As he reached the end of the aisle, he saw Niall, Harry, Liam, and Zayn congregating by the doors. They all quieted as Louis approached.

"So," Louis snarled between a smile, “I never did get the chance to ask, what brings you to our little theatre?”

“Coincidence, actually,” Niall said with a laugh, “We ran into each at this pub on High Street. You can imagine my surprise when this guy came and sat next to me at the bar. We took a stroll and got caught up when we saw the theatre. And I said to Harry, ‘That can’t be our Tomlinson, could it?’ and sure enough-”

“And actually we’re looking for a job,” Harry cut in.

“You are?” Zayn asked.

Niall’s eyes widened, “We ar- ? I mean,” he corrected himself with a nod of agreement, “We are.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint,” Louis said sweetly, “But I have absolutely no room on the payroll. Absolutely none,” he sang with a smile.

“How about volunteer help?” Niall suggested, “Experience is all we’re looking for.”

“I’m sorry-” Louis started.

“Yes!” Liam cried over him, “Niall, can you handle tools?” he asked with excitement.

“Hell yes!” Niall exclaimed. A grin broke out on Liam’s face as he shook Niall’s hand vigorously.

“Excellent! Excellent!” Liam grinned.

Zayn looked at Harry with a smile, “And how about you Harry? Got any special talents up your sleeve?”

"Umm...”

“Perfect!” Zayn said, grabbing Harry's hand and giving it a shake, “Welcome aboard!”

Louis stood in shock as his mates chattered amongst themselves, “I’m sorry, but if I recall correctly, this is still my theatre and I do not appreciate decisions going completely over my head!”

The four pairs of surprised eyes stared back at him. Niall took a slow look around and rolled his eyes with an annoyed sigh, “Louis," he chimed in a childish voice, "May Harry and I volunteer at your theatre? Pretty please?”

Louis was a split second from shooting him down when Zayn shot him a sharp look. Louis felt a twinge of guilt under Zayn’s hard gaze. He knew they needed the help, it would be mad to refuse it.

“Yes, of course,” Louis sighed, “We would be very grateful for your help.”

“Good. Hey, why don’t we invite Harry and Niall to James' later?” Liam suggested with a smile.

Louis could not believe his ears, “No-!” A hand was clamped over his mouth before he could finish his thought.

“Yes!” Zayn interrupted, an arm still wrapped around Louis’ face while he struggled to get free, “That sounds like a brilliant idea!”

“Where are we going?” Harry asked.

“Our favourite pub, it’s just down the street,” Liam explained, “They have a great dance floor too.”

“Sounds fun,” Niall grinned, “I’m in.”

“Excellent!” said Zayn, “Let’s go!”

Louis gaped at the scene, “What? Now?” he screeched.

“Why not? Come on lads, this way!” Zayn waved the crowd to the exit.

Louis watched in horror as four bodies made their way out of the door. Louis grappled with the thoughts running wild in his head. This could not be happening. Louis had left that part of his life far behind. And now it had come to bite him in the arse. The universe was punishing him, that was the only explanation. With a groan, Louis grudgingly followed his mates through the door. This promised to be a long night.

~

The Late Late bar pulsed with its usual energy that night. The group walked into the bar, music reverberating throughout the hall. Dancers writhed in the dim flashing lights, the temperature rising the more they moved.

“This way!” Zayn called over the noise. He led the group through the stream of bodies to their usual booth in the corner. Liam and Zayn slid next to each other, snuggling on the end of the seat. Niall stuck close to Harry’s side and Louis was glad to have a least one person between him and Harry.

“This is nice,” Niall said, “Is this what you call a ‘gay bar’?” he asked quietly.

“I prefer to call it a bar without restriction,” James chimed as he peeked his head into the booth. James looked around the group, “Have some new faces, do we?”

“Niall, Harry, this is James,” Liam introduced, “He runs this place. James, this is Niall and Harry.”

“Hello! Nice to meet you all,” James smiled, shaking hands with both Harry and Niall, “Are you friends from uni?”

“No, actually,” Harry said, it was the first thing he had said all night Louis noted, “We all backpacked around the mainland one summer five years ago.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely!” James exclaimed, sliding into the seat, “Tell me all about it.”

Louis laughed uncomfortably, “James,” he sang, “Don’t you have work to be doing or something?”

“Nonsense!” James cried with a full-bellied laugh, “Is that where you two met?” he asked, pointing a finger between Liam and Zayn.

“Yeah, when did two finally get together?” Niall asked, “The sexual tension between the two of them was unbelievable,” he whispered to James, who giggled in response.

Liam blushed as he reached for Zayn’s hand, “Yes,” he said with a small smile, “We kept in touch after we got back from the mainland. And since we only lived a few hours away from each other, it was easy to see each other and one thing led to another…”

“And now they’re living together like proper newlyweds!” Louis finished with a laugh. The others chuckled as Zayn and Liam turned a bright shade of red. Zayn placed a kiss on a bashful Liam’s cheek.

“Ahh, summer romance,” James sighed, “There is nothing more magical. I heard once that the love that blooms during the summer can withstand even the harshest of winters. Wouldn’t you agree?”

The atmosphere at the table suddenly became very awkward. Louis looked up at the bright flashing light, lips pulled into a tight line. Out of the corner of his eye, Louis could see that the others were doing the same. Louis held his breath as James took a curious glance around the table, “Did I say something wrong?” James whispered to Liam. Liam opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.

A tense silence passed before Niall stood up, “Come on, let’s dance!” he announced, pulling Louis along with him.

“Excellent point!” cried Zayn grabbing Liam’s hand, “Come on boys! Let’s have some fun!” They waved to the rest of their group as they dissipated into the dance floor.

Louis let Niall drag him from the booth, before Niall looked over his shoulder, “Harry?” Niall asked in surprised. Louis glanced behind him to see Harry sliding out of his seat, “Harry,” Niall continued, “What are you doing?”

“Just going to walk around,” he stated, giving Niall a bland stare.

Niall shot him a funny look from across the way, “Are you going to be alright?”

“Of course,” he said, “I'm more than capable of looking after myself."

Niall nodded slowly before turning away, pulling Louis in tow. Louis let his eyes linger. Harry stood at the edge of the crowd, he stuck out like a sore thumb. He was uptight and clean, so different from his loose and filthy surroundings. He stood there with his vacant eyes and stoic face and Louis realized that he had yet to see him smile. He used to be a little ball of energy, with joy and life radiating from him. Where were those dimples he so fondly remembered? What happened to him?

At some point during his internal monologue, Niall had slipped away from Louis to chat up a group of girls that were dancing a few meters away. When Louis looked back to Harry, he had disappeared into the mass of dancers. Louis sighed, and he started to dance. He let his hips swing and his body twist in fluid motions.

It wasn’t too long before a long lean body approached Louis. He was a redhead and tall. His abs bulged from underneath his skin-tight v-neck. He would do. Louis gave the man an approving nod before resuming dancing. A wide grin spread across the stranger's face.

The redhead slipped his hand under the thin layer of Louis’ shirt. His hands were slick against Louis’ stomach, damp with a thin layer of sweat. The man snaked his face down to Louis' throat. Louis let him sink his teeth into the soft skin of his neck. He was better than the bloke before. The redhead had a certain finesse that the other man had lacked, the way his fingers moved over his hips was delicate and precise.

As the stranger’s mouth came closer, Louis brought two fingers to rest on his lips. The redhead looked up at him with a surprised expression, “Sorry, love. Kissing’s not really my thing,” Louis explained with a smile, “I’m sure your mouth will be much more useful in other places.”

The redheaded stranger responded with a hasty nod of the head. Louis gave him an approving smile as the redhead reattached himself to the underside of Louis’ jaw. The bloke pulled Louis closer, still diligently sucking on Louis’ throat. Louis settled himself over the stranger’s shoulders, giving him a better angle and a muffled grunt of approval.

Louis looked around the room while he waited for the redhead to finish the job. Bodies moved around the dance floor in a great, beautiful chaos. Lights filtered through the crowd, casting the dancers colourful neon shadows. The dance floor was in constant fluid motion as the music filled people’s blood. The music moved them in ways they didn’t even realize, absent-mindedly being caught up in the push and flow of the sound. Louis could feel himself swaying, even with a stranger currently sucking a love bite into his neck.

Just then, Louis noticed Harry’s eyes glaring at him from across the room. Niall, now beside him, moved his limbs in an erratic fashion, which some people might have called dancing. But Harry wasn’t paying any attention to his Irish mate. Instead, Harry focused his gaze on Louis. His intensity cut through the room like a knife. Louis immediately went tense under Harry’s scrutinizing stare. He darted his eyes away, but even without looking at him, Louis could still feel Harry’s eyes bearing into his profile.

The redhead shifted underneath him, “Somethin’ wrong, mate?” he mumbled, lips still firmly attached to Louis’ neck.

“Get off.”

The redhead froze before bringing his eyes to meet Louis’. Louis stared down at him with a blank expression on his face, “I said, get off,” he repeated, pushing the stranger away.

The man stumbled backwards, clearly taken aback by Louis abrupt attitude change. He scowled at Louis, who returned his stare with a stony expression. The redhead held his fingers up in a V before storming away.

Louis stared at the man as he disappeared into the crowd. Turning back, Louis searched for Harry’s eyes, but they were nowhere to be found. “Ugh,” Louis groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. God, this was so stupid. He was so stupid! Louis manoeuvred his way out of the crowd, resentment building in his chest. What an awful night.

~

“Hurry Liam! They’re going to catch us!” Zayn whispered as he dragged his boyfriend from the club. Liam stumbled along behind him, he might have the longer legs, but Zayn was definitely faster. The pair rushed past the exit and onto the empty street.

“Calm down, Niall’s covering for us,” Liam put his hands on his knees while taking in a deep breath, his forehead perspiring slightly in the warm summer night, “But are you sure it’s a good idea to leave them by themselves?” he said, glancing up towards his boyfriend.

“They should be fine,” Zayn said, leaning against a street lamp, “They have to have a real conversation at some point.”

“It’s Louis,” Liam wheezed, “I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

Zayn rolled his eyes, although he knew Liam had a point.

Liam stood himself up as he approached Zayn under the lamplight, “I still feel bad about running off like that.”

Zayn made a noncommittal grunt of acknowledgement as he stared down to his shoes. Liam eyed him with curiosity, “What is it?” he asked. Zayn didn’t respond at first, eyebrows still knotted in a nervous bunch.

“It’s Harry,” Zayn finally admitted, “I just wonder what happened to mess him up so badly.”

Liam nodded in understanding, “You noticed that too?”

“How could I not? He acted like a robot the entire night. Entirely monodimensional. That’s not the Harry I knew,” Zayn sighed with a shake of his head, “Maybe Louis can snap him out of it.”

Liam chuckled, “Two tortured souls finding solace within each other? That sounds like something out of a book.”

Zayn sighed, “If that book has a happy ending for the both of them, then I’m not going to complain.” Liam nodded in silent agreement. The road would be rocky, but maybe - just maybe - those two broken people could make each other whole.

~

Louis, Harry, and Niall stood outside the Late Late bar, the open door letting the noises of the bar drift into the street. Louis turned to Niall, “Where in the bloody hell are Liam and Zayn?” he asked impatiently.

Niall shrugged, “They said they were using the loo, they’ll be back soon.”

Louis huffed, letting the silence settle in again. After a moment, Niall pushed himself off the wall, “I think I’ll scamper off,” Niall said as he waved to them, “See you for work in the morrow!”

Louis and Harry waved their goodbyes to Niall and then returned to pointedly ignoring each other. Louis continued to watch the door for his mates to no avail. Finally losing his patience, Louis popped his head into the bar. Liam and Zayn were nowhere to be found. He grabbed James as the man was passing by, “James, have you seen Liam and Zayn? I know they were just here.”

James thought for a moment before his face lit up in recognition, “Yes, I did! You just missed them, they ran out about a minute ago. And they looked like they were in quite a hurry.” Louis a tiny bud of fury rising inside him. Stopping to the loo my arse.

Louis heaved a frustrated sigh, “Alright, thanks, James.”

“No problem,” James grinned, “And you have a wonderful night, Louis!”

Louis steeled himself before he stepped through the exit. Harry was still there, exactly where Louis had left him, “They left already,” Louis mumbled. Harry nodded his head in silent understanding.

They stood there in silence, Louis not knowing quite what to do. This was the first time they had been alone in five years. There were so many things to say, yet Louis couldn’t form a single coherent sentence, no matter how hard he tried. He chose to blame it on the alcohol.

“Well, I’m going to head home,” Louis said. Harry didn’t respond or make any move to go.

Louis stared at him, not quite sure what to do, “Shouldn’t you be getting home too?”

“Not really,” Harry admitted, stringing his thumbs through his belt loops, “I never managed to find a place to stay…” his voice drifted off as he looked up to the night sky. They stood there for a moment, Louis at a loss for words while Harry looked around amicably at the deserted street.

“So?” Louis finally prompted.

“So?” Harry repeated innocently.

_Innocent my arse._

“So you were just going to find a nice alley to cosy up in for the night?” Louis sneered,

Despite the extreme amount of sarcasm that was being thrown at him, Harry looked unfazed. It was unnerving how little emotion Harry showed. This wasn't Louis' normal sarcastic remark, he was being mean, appalling even, and he knew it. He wanted to hurt him. It was like seeing something perfect and wanting to pop it. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that,” he sighed, casually inspecting his fingernails, “But it is rather pleasant outside,” Harry continued, “So I’m sure-”

“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that,” Harry sighed, casually inspecting his fingernails, “But it is rather pleasant outside,” he continued, “So I’m sure-”

“Why don’t you stay with Niall?” Louis cut in, continuing down the street, “I’m sure he would be more than happy to have you.”

“I don’t know where he’s staying,” Harry called from behind.

“Call him,” Louis said, making a sharp turn onto another street, “And stop following me!”

“I don’t have his number. We ran into each other by chance today,” Harry explained again, “And I don’t have anywhere else to go,” Harry said, stepping in front of Louis, “So I might as well follow you.”

Louis stopped short and glared at the taller man. He had to crane his neck to meet Harry’s eyes, but Louis stared back at him with equal intensity. Harry raised a hand to Louis’ face and Louis could see the challenge in his eyes. Louis kept their gaze strong, he was not shying away from Harry this time. Harry’s fingertips came to rest on Louis’ throat. They barely touched his skin, but Louis could feel each point of contact sizzle with energy. Slowly, Harry let his fingers drag down Louis’ throat.

Louis’ breath hitched at the movement. Harry spread his palm flat against Louis’ collarbone, his thumb brushing the tender love-bite on the underside of Louis’ jaw. Harry’s eyes widened in surprise as a small gasp escaped Louis’ mouth.

Quickly gathering his wits, Louis slapped Harry’s hand away. The slap echoed through the empty street and Louis suddenly found himself short of breath.

“That was bit unnecessary,” Harry chided, rubbing his hand. Louis clenched his teeth to keep from screaming. He was about two seconds from strangling Harry where he stood.

“Oh, it was very necessary,” Louis growled, “Now go away!”

“Alright, I best be off to find my home for the night,” Harry sighed, “That box looks very comfortable-”

“Just shut up,” Louis groaned. He had two options, neither of which could end well. “Come on,” He couldn’t believe he was actually doing this.

“Where are we going?”

“My flat,” Louis snapped, “Just don’t get the wrong idea.”

Harry stared at him, eyes blinking in a lazy fashion, “A change of heart?” he said after a bit.

Louis huffed an indignant breath, “Despite what you may think, I don’t fancy the idea of you fending for yourself on the streets at night.”

“I’m touched,” Harry said evenly.

“Just shut up!”

They walked down the empty night streets in silence. Only the rustling of the scattered trees kept them company. Harry stood to Louis’ right as they walked down the street, their faces washed with the pale light of the street lamps. Louis let his eyes drift over to Harry. A light breeze brushed his curls across his face as he walked. Louis wanted to say something, he wasn’t quite sure what that something was. They used to talk so freely, there were no barriers, no awkward history to hold them back. To be honest, Louis missed that. Not that he would ever admit that. Ever.

“The stars,” Harry said suddenly, eyes fixed on the dark indigo sky. Louis glanced at him sceptically, “You can’t see them,” Harry continued, face still upturned to the sky.

Louis nodded in understanding, “Well, it is London. Light pollution and all.” What the fuck was he saying? _Light pollution_? Shit.

Harry always had been fascinated with the stars. Sometimes Louis felt like if he didn't hold on tight enough, Harry would float up to the stars to join them. They’d had a similar conversation before, five years ago on a pitch black beach. They were about 100 kilometres from the mainland on a little island called Skopelos. By day, the town was an epicentre for chaos and commotion, bustling with tourists and merchants in the street. But by night, it was exactly how Harry described it. The beach was a local secret and completely deserted after the sunset.

There were quick, excited whispers exchanged. Harry’s eyes lit up as he gazed up at the sky. He was wonderstruck, almost as if he had never seen the stars before. Louis smiled at him and brushed the sand out of his hair. And Harry smiled back, dimples on full display. They brought their bodies closer together. It was beautiful, the way their bodies fit together, how their lips felt soft and gentle against each other- No. No, Louis quickly shoved the thoughts into far back of his subconsicence where they belonged.

“They were beautiful,” Louis said with faux nonchalance, “In Greece,” he added quietly. Louis wasn't quite sure why he was bringing it up. He didn't want to talk about it, but what else were they supposed to talk about? If Harry expected them to act all pleasant while dancing around the elephant in the room, then he could stick the elephant up his arse.

Harry didn't say anything, merely deepening his frown, “It's in the past now.”

Hesitantly, Louis looked to Harry. Harry's face showed no signs of movement. His face remained as stoic as ever, mouth permanently etched into a gentle frown. There was nothing left of the childhood brightness Louis knew so well. Louis knew he would be different, everyone changes over the years. Hell, Louis was an excellent example of that. But this... Harry... He looked dead inside. And it chilled Louis to the bone.

It reminded Louis of a springtime flower trust into the harsh of winter. It's bright soft petals turning black and dry in the cold. His little flower boy, wilting from the frost. Taking a shaky breath, Louis looked away, unsure of what to say. There was an unpleasant hammering inside Louis' chest as the thoughts swirled around in his head. He pushed the feeling to the back of his mind, because when in doubt, repression was always Louis' first choice. Louis stopped short as he took a quick look around, “Oh, um…” he mumbled, “We’re here.”

~

Harry watched as Louis fumbled with the keys to his flat. Louis finally pushed open the door with a loud screech of its hinges. Louis stepped through the door, making no motion for Harry to follow. Harry placed a tentative foot into the flat as Louis threw his keys into a bowl by the front door.

“The sofa,” was all Louis said as he rushed through the flat, not even giving Harry a second glance. Harry looked to the tiny burgundy sofa in the middle of the room. Harry took a tentative seat on a cushion. Apparently, this was going to be his bed for the foreseeable future. Toeing off his shoes, Harry swung his feet onto the sofa.

Just then, Harry’s phone buzzed.

 **showerocunts:** haz i’m at the hotel. Where r u?

 **hazza:** I found another place to stay.

 **showerocunts:** what?? Mate! Your mum was so kind to pay for this fancy arse hotel and now you’re just blowing me of?? I’ll be lonely x

 **hazza:** You’ll be fine.

 **showerocunts:** okay okay mate. But where are you staying? And all your luggage is still over here.

 **showerocunts:** hazza?

 **showerocunts:** hello?

 **showerocunts:** HARRY!!

 **hazza:** I’m staying with Louis.

 **showerocunts:** oooooohhhhhh????? Reeeeeaaallllyyy???

 **hazza:** Niall.

 **showerocunts:** i jest mate, i jest!! Well mate, I’ll let you get some rest now. Just don’t do anything too kinky ;)

 **hazza:** Goodnight Niall.

 **showerocunts:** hahaha!! night mate, see you in the morning!

 

Harry set his phone down on the table and turned out the light. His legs were much too long for Louis’ tiny sofa and they hung off the side in an absurd fashion. He pulled the afghan around his arms and positioned himself in the best way he could. His back would hurt in the morning, that was certain. Turning his head into the pillow, Harry took a deep breath and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's that! And might I just say, it's very hard to write a flat Harry! I keep having to go back and tone down his personality, yet at the same time keeping him interesting and relatable... I had no idea it would be this difficult! Anyhow, thank you for reading! And thank you so much for your comments and kudos, you lot really are so sweet. I'll update as soon as possible, but until then!  
> \- Luna


	4. Honey, Honey!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Act I, Scene III- [Honey! Honey!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lz6a6RwS3x4&index=4&list=PLDkplS6oiIIk2AD5Yrnn_xfdjusmECKCg)  
> 
> 
>   
> 
> 
>   
> 
> 
>   
> Honey honey, how he thrills me, ah hah, honey honey  
> Honey honey, nearly kills me, ah hah, honey honey  
> I'd heard about him before, I wanted to know some more  
> And now I know what they mean, he's a love machine  
> Oh, he makes me dizzy  
> Honey honey, let me feel it, ah hah, honey honey  
> Honey honey, don't conceal it, ah hah, honey honey  
> The way that you kiss goodnight  
> The way that you hold me tight  
> I feel like I wanna sing when you do your thing  
> Honey honey, how he thrilled me, ah hah, honey honey  
> Honey honey, nearly killed me, ah hah, honey honey  
> I'd heard about him before, I wanted to know some more  
> And now I'm about to see what he means to me
> 
> . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, this one turned out to be a monster. I guess I just got a little carried away. Oops. Sorry it took so long to post, but you know... life and all. Also, special condolences to Louis and his family. RIP Johanna, gone too soon.

Louis glanced at his clock for the fifteenth time that hour and let out a weary sigh as he returned his gaze to his book. To say Harry took long showers would be a drastic understatement. On average, Harry was in the loo for at least twenty-five minutes. Twenty-five! It was absolutely bloody ridiculous. What was he doing in there? Shaving his legs? Pondering the meaning of life? Well, at least it gave Louis time to read, albeit begrudgingly.

Finally, Louis heard the shower shut off.  _Finally_. Louis set his book down and grabbed the towel off the sofa. Sparing a quick glance at the clock, Louis scoffed. Twenty-five on the dot. Louis heard the doorknob click as Harry exited the washroom; if he was lucky there might actually be some hot water left. But as Louis turned towards around, he was suddenly met with a traumatic sight.

A strangled croak escaped from Louis’ throat before he immediately whipped his head away, “For fuck’s sake Harry!”

Standing in his living was one very naked Harry Styles. Water dripped off his impossibly long legs and pooled into puddles on the floor. His hair hung in glistening ringlets and his chest was littered with… tattoos? But even more distracting than all of that was his huge, shining-

No, no, no, no, no. Louis William Tomlinson, get a hold of yourself.

“What?”

Louis’ head snapped up in embarrassment at the sound of Harry’s voice. He didn’t even realize he had been staring. Forcing his eyes away from the rock-hard abs, Louis stiffly turned to the other side of the room, “In the name of all things pure and holy, put on some damn clothes,” he huffed.

Harry glared at him but did as he was told.

Despite his best attempt, Louis’ eyes wandered back to the numerous tattoos that covered Harry’s body. A butterfly, letters, birds, a rose- They wandered all over his chest, down his arms, one sat low on his line-

“What?” Harry repeated, this time his tone a little more forceful.

“I…” Louis started, cheeks deepening to a painful shade of red. Biting his lip, Louis forced himself to look away, “Nothing.”

Harry continued to stare at him for a moment and Louis was worried he was going to press the matter further. But after another agonizing beat, Harry turned away. The tips of his ears were a rosy shade of pink beneath his curls.

It must be from the shower. It had to be.

Louis silently slipped off the sofa and, trying to make the situation less uncomfortable, slinked into the restroom. He was careful not to make eye contact with Harry on his way over.

Miraculously, the water was still relatively warm when Louis stepped into the shower. Louis closed his eyes as he let the water smoothed away the stress of the day, gently rolling off his skin and soaking through his hair. Almost immediately, his thoughts wandered back to Harry’s tattooed chest.

He had gotten more. A lot more. Well, Louis had too. He spared a glance towards his own tattooed body and the miscellaneous doodles sprawled up his arm and across his chest. He had so terrified about getting his tattoo, Louis was surprised he had gotten more. Harry had been shaking as the ink gun pricked his skin and Louis remembered how his nails dug into the top of his hand, but he didn’t mind. Louis sat there and held his hand while he got his own design inked into his skin. He thought of that slim line of inked rope around Harry's wrist and absentmindedly rubbed his own matching one.

Suddenly, there was a distinct burning sensation on Louis’ back. Louis hissed as the cold water shot against his still warm skin and steam began to cloud the air. Apparently, it was time to get out of the shower. He scrambled out and shook his head, spraying droplets water around the tiny washroom. He wrapped a towel around his waist before stepping into the hallway. As Louis reached for the handle, he found himself hesitating. What the hell? This was his flat. If Louis wanted to walk around in nothing but a towel, could do what he damn well pleased. Still, the door remained unopened. After a beat, Louis discarded the towel with a grunt and reached for his hoodie and joggers.

When Louis reentered the living room, his eyes immediately settled on Harry. He was curled up on the sofa, his legs scrunched into his chest. There was something unsettling about the sight. Harry seemed like a giant living in an elf’s home. Even Louis’ largest shirt was two sizes too small for Harry’s massive frame. He must have been cold and uncomfortable. It was just then that Louis realized he hadn’t even offered him an afghan.

A bolt of sudden unease shot through his spine, “Can I get you anything?”

Harry turned away from Louis and responded with a resounding, “No.”

Louis clenched his teeth to keep from biting back. Fine. Let the ungrateful bastard freeze to death. See if he cared. But there was still something about the odd angle of his back that made Louis stay, “Is your back alright?”

There was a slight pause before Harry answered, his voice still muffled by the cushions, “Most of the time.”

Louis suddenly felt a tightness in his throat that was surprisingly hard to swallow. Silently, Louis tiptoed out the room. Reaching his own bedroom, Louis looked around and examined his living space. It was a mess. Clothes lay scattered on the floor and overflowing from his wardrobe, there was a collection of water glasses on his side table, and his bed was unmade. The sheets were all twisted and falling off the bed while two pillows sat peacefully, resting atop the chaos.

Two pillows.

Two.

Louis chewed on his bottom lip, eyes darting between the pillows. He didn’t really need two pillows. In fact, it was quite a bit of a hassle, really. Having two pillows, that is. Hesitantly, he grabbed the pillow by the edge of it’s covering. Louis was just bringing him a pillow, no big deal. He just remembered that Harry had back pains, nothing to write home about. He was just being a good host, that’s all.

That’s all.

 _Don’t read into it. Don’t read into it,_ his mind whispered as he made his way back to the sofa. Harry was stretched out over the cushions as much as he could be, but his long limbs spilt over the edges at both ends. It was very obvious that this sofa was not meant for a person of Harry’s size.

Louis gently rapped his knuckles against the wall, (as if he needed permission to enter his own living room). Harry rolled on his side to peer at him.

“I- I thought you might want these,” Louis said, presenting the afghan and pillow in one hand.

Harry blinked, his eyes fixated on the bundle of cloth in front of him. Cautiously, he raised his eyes to look at Louis, “For me?”

Louis nodded as he placed them gently on the coffee table between him and Harry, very quickly looking away when he was done.

“Oh,” Harry said softly, “Thank you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Louis saw Harry slide the bundle off the table and place it in his lap. Louis released a sigh he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Um…” Louis started, still careful not to look Harry in the eye, “Do you need anything else?”

“No, but thank you for asking,” Harry’s voice was barely more than a whisper, hands clasped tightly over the pillow, “This is more than enough.”

“Are you sure?”

“Can we really be sure of anything?”

Louis’ head snapped up. For a split second, their eyes met and Louis felt his hair stand on end. Harry’s eyebrows pinched together creating fine creases in his forehead. His eyes were bright green and shining. He looked small and fragile and-

“Alright! G’night!” Louis stumbled back to his room and slammed the door shut. What the hell was that? Why did Harry look at him like that? Why did it bother him as much as it did?  _What. Was. Going. On_.

Louis flopped onto the mattress and curled himself into a ball. Desperately grabbing onto his solitary pillow, Louis’ mind was racing. Why was this so confusing? Damn Harry and his cryptic words. And his shining eyes and his bad back. Louis pulled the duvet over his shoulders and buried his face in his pillow. Damn it all.

~

When Louis arrived at the theatre the next day, he was sleep deprived and irritable. He struggled to balance his tea and papers while he fumbled with the keys and the lock. Louis had done a lot of stupid things in his life, but letting Harry stay at his flat took the cake. How could he possibly sleep with Harry in the other room? The entire night Louis tossed and turned with Harry’s presence hovering over him like a ghost. This was a first-rate disaster waiting to happen.

Still nursing his cuppa, Louis pushed open the creaky wooden door. The morning rays of sunlight filtered into the dusty building, casting an orange glow over the dark painted walls. The worn and faded fabric of the theatre seats shown in the bright morning light.

Even as the sunlight faded into the vast darkness of the theatre, Louis could see the ghost light shining brightly from deep within the shadows. Blindly groping along the wall, Louis gripped the familiar metal switch and flipped it upwards. With a low rumble, the theatre suddenly was engulfed with piercing white light. Louis groaned, momentarily blinded by the brightness.

Grabbing his things, Louis started down the backstage hallway. Light spilt from the workshop window into the dimly lit corridor and as voices drifted through the walls. Balancing his cuppa between two fingers and a stack of papers between three, Louis cracked the door open. Liam and Zayn sat at the workshop table chatting amiably with drinks in their hands. Zayn read his newspaper while Liam chattered on. Louis let the workshop door slam shut, making the couple look up for their morning coffee.

Immediately, a sly smile spread across Zayn’s face, “So,” he drawled from behind his paper, “How’s living with Harry?”

Louis let his papers fall to the table with a smack. He separated each page with a sharp, jerky movement, “We.”  _Smack_. “Are not.”  _Slam_. “Living together!” Louis hissed, nails digging into the white paper.

“The bags under your eyes suggest otherwise,” Liam giggled. Zayn put a fist over his mouth to hold back a laugh. If looks could kill, Louis would have had them disintegrated, skewered, and burnt to the ground by now.

“I’m regretting telling you this already,” Louis muttered as he shuffled his papers.

A small snort escaped Liam’s nose and Zayn lost it. The couple cackled as Louis rolled his eyes. It was far too early in the morning to be dealing with such idiocracy.

“Oh, this brings back memories!” Liam wheezed between laughs, “R-remember how they always insisted on sharing the same bunk at the hostel?”

Zayn nodded and slapped the table, tears prickling at his eyes, “And remember how tired they were then?” Another burst of laughter erupted from the table as Liam threw his head back and clutched at his sides, “Wonder what kept them up all night?”

Zayn elbowed him in the side, “Oh, I think you know!”

Louis looked upon his mates with unmasked disdain, “I’m going to hurt you both.”

“Okay, okay,” Zayn sighed, wiping a stray tear from his eye, “We’ll stop.”

“How is it, though? Is everything alright?”

“It-it’s fine!” Louis sputtered, “I still want to beat him with a crowbar,” he mumbled to himself.

“Lou, as lovely as that sounds, you know we don’t have the money to bail you out of jail at the moment.”

Louis was about to say something snarky in response but was cut off by a commotion outside the workroom. With a grand and sweeping gesture, Niall threw the workshop doors wide open, “Hiyo!” he whooped, leaping up into the air like a leprechaun, “Reporting for duty!”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Louis spied Harry slinking into the workroom behind Niall. He kept his eyes to the ground, not bothering to look in Louis’ direction. Well, fine. Two could play that game.

“Alright then! Glad to hear  _someone’s_ eager to work,” Liam said, “Niall if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you the guts of this hell hole.”

Louis stepped back with a dramatic gasp, “Excuse you, that’s  _my_ hell hole you’re talking about.”

Liam looked very smug as stuck out his tongue at Louis. Niall was stifling a laugh when he scampered off behind Liam. Real mature that, Liam. Now, when Zayn takes Harry off to help him with the props-

“Well,” Zayn sighed, tossing his coffee in the bin, “I’ll be off.”

Louis whipped around, surprise and anxiety making him nearly scream, “Where are you going?”

Zayn gave him a baffled look, “Lou, it’s my day off.”

Louis furiously began to count in back in his head, it couldn’t be the third Monday of the month already. There was no way. One, two, three-

Oh shit.

“Indeed it is,” Louis said tersely, “Well, you have fun doing- whatever it is you do.”

Zayn flashed him a knowing smile before exiting the workroom, letting the door close with a quiet click. Suddenly, a strained silence fell over the workroom. Harry still stood on the other side of the room with eyes locked on the ground. Oh, this was going to be a miserable day.

“This way,” was all Louis could mutter before swiftly flying out of the workroom. He heard slow and steady footsteps behind him. Louis led him down the hallway into the seating area of the theatre. They stopped in front of a massive pillar decorated with flowing gold and burgundy patterns atop a solid black base. While still beautiful, the paint was beginning to chips and fade leaving the ashy plaster poking out from behind.

Grabbing paint from a nearby chair, Louis turned to Harry, “This is paint. That’s a wall. You. Paint. Wall.”

As soon as the sound (Louis was hesitant to call them words) left his mouth, Louis felt his cheeks flush. English: Louis used to be fluent in the language. Why was it that Louis could only spout nonsense around Harry? Louis blamed it on the failed teenage romance.

Louis quickly shoved the can of black paint into Harry’s hands and darted away. By this time a fair number of his cast had shown up for their daily rehearsal. Settling himself in his director’s seat, Louis tried to brush off the lingering sense of humiliation, “Alright, morning all!” he managed to croak out, plastering a smile on his face. It took a conscious effort to keep the edges of his lips pointed upwards. He was greeted by the usual chorus of absentminded ‘hellos’ and blank stares. The smile on his face was so forced it was painful.

He flipped open his notebook and looked at the marked pages. Each margin was filled with scratched out lines and little notes about the actors. The blocking notes and light and sound cues stood out in their bright red ink.

“Let’s take it from the top of the first scene, yeah?” Louis called to the stage.

A hasty acknowledgement was made before the actors quickly cleared the stage as they ran to their places. From stage right, Amelia flounced on stage, her fluffy blonde hair springing around her shoulders as she began the shown.

If he tilted his head slightly to the right, Louis could see Harry in his peripheral vision. The man was delicately running a brush over the plaster. His brows were scrunched in concentration as if he were painting a meticulous watercolour. His back was arched from being so low to the ground, and a bit of dirt had collected on his knees from when he-

“-linson! Mr. Tomlinson!”

Louis jumped at the high-pitched voice, “Huh?”

Amelia’s lips were scrunched into a sour purse as she tapped her foot impatiently, “Line?”

“Oh, uh sorry,” Louis adjusted his glasses searching for the line in the script, “ _And I’d always kind of accepted that that’s-_ Oh my-! Harry! Stop!”

Before he even knew what he was doing, Louis leapt from his director’s seat and sprinted across the theatre. Harry sat at the base of one of the theatre’s winding columns staring at Louis with a perplexed expression. His lovely hands were smeared with paint and there was a streak of black jutting across his cheek which made him look like a brooding street artist. But that really wasn’t the thing Louis should be focusing on at the moment. As Louis got closer, his worst fears were confirmed: the once ornate golden and burgundy walls were covered in a thick layer of black paint.

“What the hell have you done?” Louis shrieked. Why hadn’t he been paying closer attention? He should have noticed when Harry started to paint outside the base. Instead, all he’d noticed was stupid face and hands.

“You said paint-” Harry started.

“Where it’s black you dipshit!” Goddamnit, Louis had helped his Grandfather had hand paint these very columns. It had taken months. He and his Grandfather came in every day with brushes and paints and stencils. They worked all day and by the time they were done, their backs aches and they were covered head to toe in paint. Those were some of the happiest moments in Louis’ life. And with one fell swoop, Harry had ruined it all.

By now a group of curious actors had formed a circle around the scene, each with a different horrified expression on their face. Suddenly, Liam burst through the crowd with Niall following close in suit. Liam spotted the column immediately and his face paled in an involuntary blanch.

“Lou-”

“It’s okay. I can fix this. Just have to act quickly…” Louis paced, frantically combing his fingers through his fringe, “Li, go back to my flat to some extra rollers and trays. Call Zayn, he knows where they are. And take Niall if you want.”

Liam quickly nodded before grabbing Niall and sprinting out the door.

“And you!” Louis growled as whipped around to face Harry. He was still kneeling on the ground, paintbrush still in hand. “Don’t touch anything in my theatre every again!”

After a moment, Harry looked up. His gaze burned. His eyes were hand and pure and cold. He nodded his head in a slow bob that made Louis’ stomach twist. Hastily, he broke their stare, but not before he saw softer flash beneath those pools of jade. Something more delicate and fragile. Something that looked strangely like sorrow.

~

The lock to Louis’ flat turned with a soft click as Zayn pushed open the door. Putting the spare key back in his pocket, Zayn briskly stepped through the door, a scowl firmly planted on his face. Liam and Niall quietly followed after him through the threshold.

Zayn’s nose turned up in distaste as he surveyed the dishevelled flat, “What exactly are we looking for again?”

“Paint remover,” Liam supplied, “He said you would know where it is?”

“Supply cupboard, the second one from the right. Honestly,” he said with an indignant huff, “This is supposed to be my day off.”

Liam gave him a sympathetic squeeze before Niall waltzed past them and promptly flopped onto the sofa. He propped his feet up on the coffee table and took a quick survey of the flat, “Nice place he got here. Smells like booze and feet.”

Liam  _tsked_  at him, motioning for him to move his feet. Niall grunted but swung his feet off the table all the same. Liam nodded and began to head to the door, but before they reached it, Niall jumped off the couch and turned the corner to enter another room. The couple glanced at each other before Liam cautiously asked,“Ni, where’re you going?”

“Nowhere, just exploring,” came a voice from down the hall. With a frustrated sigh, the couple set down their things and followed their mate through Louis’ flat.

The Irishman turned down one corridor and peeked into an adjacent room.Throwing open a door, Niall entered a room littered with papers and empty energy drinks. Louis’ room, obviously. There was a single messy bed, one beaten up nightstand, and an antique wardrobe. The wardrobe stood tall, dark and ominous in the tiny room. After studying it for a moment, Niall gripped it by its ornate metal handles.

“Ni,” Liam warned, “You shouldn’t be going through other’s things.”

“Oh pipe down Mum,” Niall called as he threw open the wardrobe doors. The hinges squeaked with age; revealing an array of clothing and miscellaneous items.“What am I going to find, eh? A dead body? Sex toys?”

“My bet’s on the toys,” Zayn whispered in Liam’s ear who snickered in response. Meanwhile, Niall dove into the wardrobe. Clothes, shoes, and random objects went flying as Niall rummaged through Louis’ things.

"I really do feel like we should stop him though," Liam said again, "For Lou's sake."

Zayn shrugged, "That arsehole called me out here on my day off. I say we let the little tosser trash the place."

Suddenly, Niall’s small stunned voice cut through the room, “O’ my bloody shit,” he gasped.

“Nialler, what is it?”

Niall looked up from the pile of discarded clothing with excitement gleaming in his eyes, “Look what I found.”

Liam and Zayn snuck a curious glance over Niall's shoulder, each of them wondering how anything from Louis’ wardrobe could be considered interesting. Niall gripped two rucksacks, one in each hand, with a manic grin on his face. Both were old, the coloured fabric was frayed and worn with years of neglect. One was was a bleached shade of sky blue, but the colour had faded to a  dusty canvas. The other was a light green and also very worn. Its metal buckle was tarnished and there were little holes in the fabric from where the moths had eaten at it.

“Are those what I think they are?”

“The most disgusting rucksacks I’ve ever seen? Aye, I would think so.”

“Those are Louis’ and Harry’s,” Liam said, “From when we all when backpacking on the mainland.”

There was a moment of silence as the bags sat in front of the boys. Sitting there, just begging to be opened, “We shouldn’t,” Niall said, looking around to Liam and Zayn, “Right?”

“Absolutely not,” Liam agreed with a nod of his head. The three of them stared at the bags placed between them.

It was Niall who finally broke the silence, “We’ll start with Louis’.”

Zayn pushed Harry’s rucksack aside, “Sounds like a plan.”

Without a second thought, the trio ripped open the blue bag and dispelled its contents on the tile floor. A pair of scratched up glasses skittered across the hardwood floors and were followed by a handful of seashells, each of them chipped at their edges and still smelling slightly of sea water. A dark, wrinkled jumper sat at the bottom of the sack coated with a thin layer of sand, along with several crumpled napkins that were littered with miscellaneous doodles.

The three of them stared Louis’ heap. Zayn’s face twisted in distaste, “Well, that was rather anticlimactic.”

“Just like its owner. On with Harry’s then,” Niall said, grabbing the second rucksack.

Harry’s things soon tumbled in suit out of the overturned sack. A dried flower fluttered silently to the ground. It might have been red at some point, but time had made it impossible to tell. Wrapped in a sheer silk scarf was a worn leather journal.

“Oh my god,” Liam gasped, immediately scrambling to Niall’s side, “Could that be- ?”

“No. It couldn’t,” Zayn cut him off, staring at the object with a mixture of wonder and disbelief, “It’s not possible.”

“Oh, but mates,” Niall said, holding up the worn leather journal, “It is.”

Gingerly, Niall open the journal’s cover and began to read,

_Now you were standing there, right in front of me_

_I hold on, it's getting harder to breathe_

_All of a sudden these lights are blinding me_

_I never noticed how bright they would be_  

Niall looked up to Liam and Zayn. “Aye,” he breathed, tossing the journal into Zayn’s hands, “Definitely Harry’s journal.”

Zayn ran a hand over the inked pages. The flowing script danced along the page in dark winding loops. He let out a melancholy chuckle as he turned to Liam, “This sounds more like the Harry we know.”

Liam rested his head on Zayn’s shoulder, “Yeah.”

They all stared fondly at the worn leather journal with tears glistening in their eyes remembering how Harry always stayed up to an ungodly hour while scribbling in that damned book. They gave him hell about it, but they all found it endearing how he wanted to record every second of the trip, as if it would all slip away if he didn’t.

Oh, Harry. Dear sweet Harry. Where had it all gone so wrong?

When Niall finally spoke his voice was rough, “Well, you know what we have to do now.”

Niall rolled his eyes in exasperation as Liam and Zayn exchanged confused looks, “We have to get them back together, of course.”

Liam’s jaw dropped open while Zayn ran a hand over his face, muttering an irritated ‘ _of course_ ’ under his breath.

“Niall,” Liam began, “There are so many problems with that plan, but I’m just gonna say one of them for now. I really don’t think Louis would appreciate us meddling in his personal life. Or Harry for that matter.”

“If we do it right, then they won’t even know we’re meddling. Don’t you look at me like that Liam Payne! Just listen! We shouldn’t force them… Maybe just give them a push in the right direction. And we have everything we need to know,” he said, tapping the journal, “Right here! God, I’m a fucking genius.”

“Are you completely mad?” asked Zayn, “Do you remember how messed up Louis was after he left? We wouldn’t hear from him for days on end because he was so depressed. You actually want to put him through that again?”

“Do you really wanna leave things the way they are?”  

Zayn opened his mouth, as if to continue arguing, but no words came out. Liam stepped up beside side him and place a hand on his shoulder, “No, of course not,” he said, “But you can’t actually believe something like that would work. They were practically at each other’s throats today.”

“Ah yes, the sexual tension is alive and kicking.”

“Good, just lock ‘em in a room till they fuck out their problems,” Zayn spat, “No need to get involved in it.

Liam ran his fingers through Zayn’s hair, “I don’t think that’s how it works, dear.”

“Oh, and that reminds me… Ni,” Zayn said, “Are you gonna tell us what you and Harry are actually here for?” A sudden and tense hush fell over the room. The only the sound of Louis’ ticking clock dared to break the silence.

Finally, Niall shook his head in defeat, “I was wondering how long it would take you to ask,” he mumbled.

“It was only a matter of time. Only our dear, daft Louis is gullible enough to buy a shit story like that.”

Niall let out a frustrated grunt as he roughly combed his fingers through his dyed-blonde hair, “It was only shit because it wasn’t the original story!”

Liam and Zayn’s brows rose in unison, “Come again?” Liam asked, inclining his head towards Niall ever so slightly.

The Irishman stared blankly at him with wide and unblinking eyes. After a tense pause, Niall threw his head back to the ceiling and let out a deep and guttural groan. Liam and Zayn jumped at the thunderous noise. Niall finally seated himself into one of Louis’ chairs and let his head fall into his hands. Taking deep and laboured breaths, Niall slowly looked up to Liam and Zayn’s questioning faces, “That wasn’t the original plan. The plan that Harry and I-  Harry was- and I was supposed- But in waltzes Lou and…!” he breathed with a withering laugh, “And I guess it don’t really matter now. In short, we had a plan, but the moment Harry saw Louis, he completely lost his shit.”

Niall hastily pushed himself out of the chair as he began to pace once more around the room, “I should never have agreed to this. He’s going to fucking murder me.”

Zayn scrambled over to his mate’s side, “Niall, calm down,” he said, as he ran a hand over the Irishman’s quivering arm. Liam watched from the side, his brown eyes soft with sympathy. “Now, from the beginning,” Zayn sighed, “What in the bloody hell is going on?”

“A’right,” Niall said, “So, ye remember my big, fancy arse boss? Yeah, well, he’s a fucking arse and…” Niall took a shaky gulp of air before he started again, “And, he also happens to be Harry’s father.”

For a moment the flat was silent, with only two pairs of bulging eyes fixed on Niall.  

" _What?”_

Niall turned away from his mates, his face hidden behind his hands as he mumbled, “It’s a long story, but in short, I was working at their estate when the old man made me Harry’s personal ‘companion’. So to say.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Get yer head outta the gutter. I talk to him, keep him company, stuff like that. Can’t say much after that.”

“So, you’re telling that you’re paid to be Harry’s friend? Niall, that the most fucked up thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

“It’s not like that Zayn,” Niall snapped, his knuckles turning white as he clutched the edge of the chair, “I know how it seems, and believe me, I wasn’t comfortable with the arrangement at first either. But Harry needs help. He’s right clueless ‘bout how to act ‘round people who aren’t his family or his servants. And I, for one, would much rather he come to me ‘stead of some worthless twat who’d take advantage of him. I’m doing my best to get him back to normal, because he was normal once, but his old man- It’s almost like he wants him broken.”

“You can’t be serious,” Liam asked, his voice tight with anticipation.

“What about his mum? I remember hearing good things about her.”

“Anne’s a good lady, treats both me and Harry well. But her husband…” Niall scowled, “That pile shit would have Harry locked in his room every day if his mum weren’t around. He only ever acknowledges him when there are other people around to see it. Struts him ‘round like some fancy-arse show dog and then locks him right back up in his kennel. I’ve tried to stop it, trust me, but that old man-” Niall shuddered, “He’s powerful. He has his hands in places you wouldn’t imagine. And I need this job, my family depends on it. It’s a bad idea to rub him wrong.”

“And I take it Harry’s father doesn’t know you’re here?”

Niall nodded grimly, “So, you can see why I’m just a wee bit apprehensive about all of this.”

“Why take such a risk if it’s as bad as you say it is?” Liam asked gently.

Niall shook a weary head, “Harry. He insisted that we come. Just out of the blue one day, he shoved two train tickets in my hand and said we were going to London. And when I figured out where we were going…” Niall glanced around, a small smile playing on his lips, “How could I say no?”

“But what does Harry want with Louis?”

“Other than the obvious?”

“Niall!”

“I told you I don’t know!” Niall cried, “There are some things he doesn’t even tell me. But ever since we came here, there’s been this light in his eyes that I haven’t seen in years. It’s like he’s come alive again. I don’t know how much longer he can go on like this. And Louis might just be the one to bring him out of it.”

Niall stood there breathless, his hair sticking up at all angles. His blue eyes were wide and pleading as he looked between Liam and Zayn. Cautiously, Liam began to speak, “You really think so?”

“Yes! This could be his chance: Louis could save him!”

“... How long are you staying?”

“Not long, we need to get back before Harry’s dad notices we’re gone. A month or so. Two at tops.”

“If they don’t want to be together then we can’t force them.”

“I know but-!” Niall collected himself, “We have to try. They need each other. A blind man in Hong Kong could see that. So are you going to help me or not?”

At first, Liam and Zayn were silent. Hesitantly, Liam nodded. Niall let out an audible breath as he let his head fall back onto the chair.

Zayn shook his head,“I can’t believe you talked us into doing this. You missed your calling Horan.”

“I’ll take that into consideration, but first,” Niall sighed, “We need to get this shit back to Lou before he gives himself a heart attack.” Niall grabbed the supplies, while Liam and Zayn stuffed Louis’ things back into the wardrobe. The thing was a right mess, so they doubted Louis would notice a few more crumpled up clothes.

“They’re never going to forgive us for this,” Liam muttered as Zayn locked the door.

“They only need to forgive us if we fuck it up. Therefore, we don’t fuck it up.”

This, as it turned out, this would be easier said than done.

~

Louis stomped through the hall, jaw clenched tight. He was irate. A week. Louis had been working on the pillar for a whole fucking week. As if he wasn’t busy enough, Louis was pouring all his extra time into fixing Harry’s fuck up. Liam, Zayn, and Niall had taken their sweet time getting the supplies from Louis’ flat, but thankfully the paint was still wet when they returned. Over the last week, Louis had painstakingly gotten paint samples, looked up the exact designs, redone the first layer of paint… It was a right pain in the arse.

And all because of Harry.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Louis said as he slammed an armful of paperwork on the workroom table.

Liam hardly glanced up from his morning paper, “Happy Monday to you too Louis.”

“I can’t take it anymore,” Louis hissed removing his jacket and flinging it to the ground, “I can’t!”

“Please,” Liam deadpanned as he silently scooped the jacket off the workshop’s concrete floor, “Tell me all about it.” Louis opened his mouth to continue, but his words were cut short with a quick flick of Liam’s hand, “Lou, that was sarcasm. But since we’re on the topic, where is our curly-haired companion?”

Louis rolled his eyes, “He’ll be along, always takes his goddamn time. Using up my water, eating my damn food, destroying my kitchen-”

“I get it.”

Louis shot Liam an ugly glare before turning back to his papers. He shuffled and tossed them around, all while cursing Harry’s name under his breath. About ten minutes later, Zayn trudged into the workroom, pinching something between his fingers.

“Hey Louis,” said as he entered the workroom, “Did you lock up the supply cupboard yesterday?”

Louis quirked an eyebrow, “Erm, I don’t think so. Why?”

“Found another one of these in there,” Zayn lifted a hand to should a used condom wrapped in a handful of tissue paper. A strangled cry escaped Louis’ throat while Liam suppressed a cackle from the behind.

“Those goddamn kids!” Louis screeched, “Have some respect for the fine arts!”

“Ah, the follies of youth.” Liam sighed, “Remember when we used to be exciting like that?”

“We were pretty exciting last night,” Zayn cooed, spilling his free hand into the back pocket of Liam’s jeans, “Remember?” Liam chuckled and placed a light kiss on Zayn’s lips.

Louis looked on, disgusted, “I can’t believe you’re that with a used condom in your hand.”

“Condoms?” said Niall’s voice as he walked into the room, “This early in the morning? Didn’t realize you ran that kind of theatre Lou.”

Louis rolled his eyes at his Irish friend, “Funny. But you’re still late. Get on with ya! And Zayn if you could dispose of  _that_ ," Louis’ nose pinched in disgust, “It would be much appreciated.”

Zayn exited, barely containing his laughter as he passed through one of the workshop doors. Liam and Niall left moments later, their arms full of tools and painting supplies. Satisfied that everyone was being kept busy, Louis turned back to his papers. That is, until he heard someone clear their throat. It was all Louis could do not to groan.

Oh, right.

Harry approached him cautiously, his feet quiet as he crossed the workshop, “Good morning.”

“That’s debatable,” Louis grumbled under his breath, making a point not to look at Harry while he sorted through various scripts and sheets of music. Harry stood beside the table, casually drumming his fingers on the wooden table. Each beat of his fingertips picked at Louis’ concentration. He could only take so much.

“Would. You. Stop that.” Louis hissed a the younger man. Harry’s fingers immediately stilled, but his lips still pressed into a slight purse. This felt like babysitting. Correction, it  _was_ babysitting. When he could avoid it no longer, Louis gathered his things and made his way to the theatre as Harry trailed silently behind him.

“Morning, lovelies,” Louis said to the bleary-eyed cast as he sat himself on the piano bench, “You know the drill.”

“Hey Lou,” Zayn called, suddenly appearing at his side, “D’you mind if I warm up the cast today? I haven’t been on the piano in weeks.” Louis gave his mate a sceptical look. Zayn did occasionally lead the company warm-up, but usually, it was because he was under duress. Which made the offer all the more… suspicious.

“Sure, ” Louis said slowly, one brow raised, “That’s fine.” Zayn merely blinked his amber eyes as he exchanged places with Louis, a small smirk playing on his lips. Yes, very peculiar indeed.

The girls in the group giggled as Zayn sat down at the bench, each helplessly charmed by his natural charisma. His fingers danced across the ivory keys and the group of voices blended together in a smooth harmony. The funny thing was, they sounded good. They sounded really good. And the worst part about that was that it gave Louis hope. Hope that this little musical might just be enough to save the one thing he cared about.

However, Louis was then rudely ripped from this thought when the theatre was suddenly plunged into darkness. There was a pang of an off-key piano note before a handful of ear-jarring shrieks erupted in the theatre. Louis could hear actors scrambling around the stage and stumbling into the area around him. Even without being able to see it, Louis knew his theatre was quickly descending into madness.

Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse.

“Tommo!” Liam called from somewhere the darkness, “I’m going to go check the breakers, be back soon!”

“Okay!” Louis called back. Liam could handle this, the lights would be back in no time. In the meantime, Louis needed to make sure no one died his stage, “Alright! If everyone could just move to the back of the theatre in an orderly fashion-”

Louis’ call was met with the frantic voices of his cast. The entire theatre was pitch-black amidst the chaos and somewhere in the darkness, Louis heard something shatter. Great. Just great.

Carefully groping his way to the stage, Louis placed a tentative foot on the stage. Somebody whizzed past him, nearly knocking him to the floor. The whole experience was slightly surreal. Theatre was not supposed to be this dangerous!

“Everyone,” Louis called into the darkness, “Please remain calm- uf!” Louis suddenly cut off when he collided with an unknown body, causing him to fall flat on his arse.

Louis groaned as his arse hit the hard wooden floor, “God, shit. Sorry, mate,” he said to the unknown figure. That’s assuming they were still there.

“You’re excused,” said a voice.

Well, fuck.

“Does this always happen?” Harry mused in the dark, “It’s certainly… lively.”

Louis rolled his eyes in spite of himself. Only Harry would think this was the time to have a leisurely chat: in the dark surrounded by a dozen frantic thespians.

“Oh yes!” Louis snapped from the floor, “We have a habit of making our actors scramble around in the dark.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Louis said as he stood himself up, “Couldn’t be bett-”

Out of nowhere, Louis suddenly lurched downward as his foot met nothing but air. His chest hit the floor with a resounding _whump_ , knocking the wind out of his lungs. There was a sudden jolt of pain as something sharp sliced into Louis’ ankle. Oh, irony was cruel.

“Louis,” Harry called from the darkness, “Are you okay?”

Louis whimpered in response, “No, Harry. I am not okay. I’m stuck.”

“Stuck?”

“Okay,” Louis admitted, “So I might have fallen through the hole in the stage.”

Harry didn’t say anything. Louis could just imagine him standing there; his eyes round, his mouth slightly ajar, and him just standing there being absolutely fucking useless.

Finally, Louis lost his patience, “Get me out of this damn thing!” he hissed, thrusting a hand out into the darkness. It was a peculiar feeling, having his hand extended into the nothingness, not knowing if anyone would reach back. For better or worse, another hand came to engulf Louis' own. Harry pulled on Louis with a slight tug.

Louis whimpered as the wood continued to cut into his ankle, “Hold on,” he yelped. Harry quickly dropped his hand. Louis took quick, shallow breaths as the sharp pain around his foot increased. Letting his hand slide down to his ankle, Louis could feel a sticky substance running down his foot. Fuck…

“Okay, Harry, I need you to rip up the boards.”

“Are you sure? The stage...”

Louis tried to shift into a better position, but that only served to dig a loose piece of wood deeper into his skin. If he thought the pain was bad before, it was excruciating now. Louis sucked in a shallow breath between clenched teeth, “I don’t give a fuck about the stage right now, just please get me out of here.”

Louis was met with silence and for a terrifying second, Louis thought Harry might have left him here. Finally, Louis felt a hand slip between the boards and the bare skin of his ankle. The brush of soft hair and a hint of citrus gave Harry away. There was a sharp stinging sensation as Harry large hand skimmed across the tender area of his ankle.

“Louis, are you bleeding?”

“Maybe,” he blurted.

Harry’s hand faltered, “Perhaps you should get someone else to do this.”

“Harry there isn’t anyone else here right now, so just calm down and rip out the goddamn boards.”

The wood cracked and Louis felt the broken splinters of wood scrape against his skin. There was a sweet release of pressure as the board fell away.

Louis gasped as cool air rushed over his bleeding skin. For fuck's sake, this was turning out to be quite a day. Harry’s warm hand pulled Louis upwards, bringing him gently to his feet. The lift felt effortless, like Harry didn’t even have to try.

Louis rested his weight on Harry’s arm. Harry’s fingers dug into Louis’ shoulder, “Better?”

“Yeah,” Louis sighed, his body sagging into Harry’s chest, “Much.” Louis’ shirt clung to the sweat on his back. His heart was still beating faster than it should have, even with the adrenaline slowly leaving his veins. Harry was also breathing hard. Louis could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Suddenly, Louis felt his face being turned upward and a warm sensation upon his lips. Something soft, warm, and tender. And wet. There was a distinct smell of citrus with something soft brushing against Louis’ forehead- Oh, no. This better not be what Louis thought it was.

Just as alarm bells started to ring in his head, Louis heard a familiar voice from the wings of the stage, “Okay everyone, the breakers are working again!”

_No, no, no, no-_

The theatre was then suddenly thrust into the bright light. Louis' eyes burned with the sudden burst of light. Then, to his horror, Louis found himself face to face (or rather, mouth to mouth) with one Harry Styles. He and Harry stood in the middle of the stage with thirty pairs of shocked eyes staring up at them. Harry had one arm wrapped around his back and the other cupped around his cheek.  

A muffled squeak rose up in Louis’ throat as Harry leaned him back, roughly pressing their mouths closer together. Louis thumped a hand against to Harry’s chest, desperately signalling for him to stop. Harry only responded by dipping him further. There was a sharp whistle from the audience followed by a rumble of deep-bellied laughter from the cast. Louis was going to kill him. And this time, he meant it.

Finally, Harry pulled Louis upright, letting a warm tongue slide over Louis’ lips before releasing his mouth with a resounding smack. Standing back, Harry’s curls fell into his eyes. His lips were pink and shiny and his jade green eyes peeked out from behind a thick curtain of eyelashes. He almost looked attractive.

So naturally, Louis slapped him across the cheek. Hard.

All the voices in the room died in less than two seconds, making the slap echo throughout the silent theatre. No one dared to speak as Louis stood there, breathing hard and his hand stinging. Harry, on the other hand, hardly bothered to react. Only the slightest tilt of the head showed that Louis had even struck him. He barely even blinked.

Louis repressed the urge to spit at Harry’s face, to scream at him, to claw his eyes out. Instead, he screwed his face into one of bitter indignation and turned on his heel. He stumbled as his bloodied ankle wobbled beneath him. He was acutely aware of everyone’s gaze as he hobbled off the stage. Louis straightened his back and waltzed into the wings, taking with him whatever dignity that he had left. Which, at this point, wasn’t much.

~

Liam, Zayn, and Niall stood with their mouths agape as they watched Louis stumble off towards the wings. Harry still stood alone on the stage, stock still underneath the lights. Without a word, Harry exited in the opposite direction. Beside them, the actors continued to snicker and gossip amongst themselves.

“Lads,” Liam said, tugging them both away from the scene, “We need to talk.”

They shuffled down the aisles, past the painted columns and the red cushioned seats towards the back of the theatre. Zayn led them down a side corridor and ushered them all into the theatre’s supply cupboard. Liam checked the hallway before quickly closing the door behind them. Niall paced around the tiny room, hands clutched tightly behind his back. Zayn placed his head against the opposite wall, muttering expletives under his breath. The three of them refused to look at each other.

It was Liam who finally broke the silence, “Well, that went well.”

“It’s a minor setback,” Niall admitted.

Zayn gaped at him, “He  _fucking kissed_ him, Niall.”

“I really think you’re making a bigger deal out of this than it is. It could have been worse.”

“It could have been better!” Zayn snapped, “What made you think pulling the breaker was a good idea? That by making them run around in the dark they are suddenly supposed to fall in love again?”

“Well,” Niall huffed, “When you put it that way it just sounds stupid."

“My point.”

"Harry was supposed to be the one that turned the lights back on! And I wonder whose one bloody job it was to get him to the breaker?"

"I don't know if this occurred to you, but I couldn't fucking see anything! How was I supposed to find Harry  _and_ get him to the breaker?"

Just as Niall was about quip back, a booming voice cut through the room, “Would you two shut up?”

The room suddenly became very quiet as Liam’s voice echoed throughout the tiny space. Niall and Zayn glanced at each other sheepishly before turning back to Liam. “I’m just saying, at this rate they’re going to end up murdering each other.”

“Not if you two beat them to it,” Liam seethed, “First things first, you go find Harry. We’ll find Louis.”

“Okay, excellent plan. Now could we hurry this along?” Zayn said, his eyes taking a tentative once-over of the room, “I just remembered that people fuck in here.”

With a nod and a shudder, the trio quickly scrambled out of the cupboard to find their friends.

~ 

Louis released a breath he didn’t know he was holding when he finally reached the wings. He took a quick look over his stage. Harry, thankfully, was nowhere to be seen. His stage, however, was a little worse for wear. The piano askew and the bench was overturned and lying a few feet away. The hole was at least twice as wide now with the rusted metal of the piping just barely visible from above.

A sharp pain made Louis spare a look at his ankle, he had to look away almost immediately. A bloody ring had formed around where a patch of skin hung limply. Louis felt a tiny wave of nauseousness pool in his stomach as a light draft tickled the wound. That would most definitely need stitches. But first, he needed puke.

Not knowing what to do Louis called into the empty wings, “Liam!  _Liam_! Liam James Payne!” It felt a little degrading, calling for Liam like a child would call for its mother. And if Louis’ mother had been here, he would definitely be calling for her instead.

Thankfully, Liam’s head appeared from around the corner a moment later. His eyes widened in surprise when his eyes found his mate, “Louis-”

Suddenly, it was if a dam of emotions burst open inside Louis. Anger, shock, panic; they all swam around, much too fast for Louis to hold onto to just one of them. Instead, they all came out at once, “Ohmygod,” Louis’ voice went up an octave. Liam sprinted across the room to his friend and engulfed him in a hug.

Louis took quick, shallow breaths that border-lined on hyperventilation; it was only then he realized that he was shaking, _“Ohmyfuckinggod!”_

Liam looked around quickly before turning back to Louis, “Louis, mate, I don’t mean to sound unsympathetic, but could you maybe panic a little less loudly? I really don’t want the neighbours to call the police again.”

Louis gripped Liam’s t-shirt and shook him with the little strength he had left, “Liamhefuckingkissedme,  _whatthefuckisgoingon?”_ he screeched in Liam’s ear.

Just then, Zayn entered the room, panting. His usually perfect hair was a mess and a line of sweat was dripping down the side of his face. “What in the hell-”

“Love,” Liam pleaded, a traumatized Louis still shaking in his arm, “A little help here please!”

Zayn ran over and pulled Louis between himself and Liam. He ran his hand over Louis’ shaking head, “It’ll be alright, mate.” Louis took a deep and shaky breath. He felt safe between the two strong chests of his mates. Liam and Zayn were definitely the best mates in the world, far none.

“Lou?” Liam asked suddenly, “You do realize that you’re bleeding, don’t you?”

Louis spared a glance to his bloody ankle, “Yeah, so?”

“We need to take you to hospital!” Liam cried as he led Louis to a stray chair by the wall.

Louis begrudging took a seat in as he rolled his eyes at Liam, “It’s fine, no need to waste good money on little things.”

“You need stitches, Lou!”

Just then, a voice came from the other side of the room, “Think I can help with that.”

The boys looked up to see Niall standing in the doorway with Harry by his side. It was all Louis could do not to hurl. Why was he still here?

“You know how to stitch Ni?”

Niall strode over to kneel by Louis’ side, “More or less,” he said, gingerly taking Louis’ ankle into his hands. Louis winced in pain as Niall examined the wound.

“How does it look Doc?”

“Unfortunately, I think you’ll live.” A small laugh burst from Louis’ mouth, the reaction made Niall’s lips twitch in a satisfied smirk, “But first, I’m gonna need a needle, some thread, and a light.”

Zayn tossed Niall the lighter as Liam ran back to the workroom. He returned a moment later with a needle and a spool of thread in his hands. After sterilizing and threading the needle, Niall brought the sharp end to rest on the still bleeding wound.

“This is gonna to hurt a little,” Niall slid the needle through the first part of the skin. There was a slight prickling sensation, but otherwise, it was painless.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Louis breathed.

“That’s not the part that hurts, mate.”

With a sharp tug, Louis understood what he meant. As Niall stitched towards the middle, the pain became worse. With each tug, a white flash of light clouded Louis’ eyes. After the fifth stitch, Louis was feeling a right bit woozy.

Niall grabbed Louis’ hand, “Here,” he said, resting it atop Harry’s, “It’ll help with the pain.”

Louis gaped at him, gaze darting between Niall and Harry’s hand, “I don’t want to hold his bloody hand!” He shrieked as he smacked Harry’s hand away, “He nearly killed me!” If Harry was offended by the comment, he didn’t show it. He simply sat there, both his cheek and his hand now red from a slap.

“Now that’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Zayn remarked.

“Lou,” Liam said sternly “I would do what he says.”

Realizing that his protests would get him nowhere, Louis reluctantly clasped his hand around Harry’s obnoxiously large palm. Once more, Niall pressed the needle through the sensitive skin. Louis let out a quiet hiss from between clenched teeth as he squeezed Harry’s hand. Even though he would never admit it, Louis found that it did help. It still hurt like a bitch, but at least he wasn’t on the verge of blacking out. Harry, however, showed no signs of being in pain, even as Louis’ knuckles turned white from the pressure. And if Louis’ nails dug into Harry’s skin a little harder than necessary- well, no one could prove that. Still, Harry’s face remained as passive as ever.

Niall continued to stitch Louis’ ankle until all that remained of the bloody gash was a thin line of thread. “See?” he said, patting Louis’ knee, “Not so bad as all that.”

“Do forgive him,” said Liam, “He’s a bit of a drama queen.”

“I’d expect nothin’ less,” Niall cackled, pinching Louis’ cheek.

Afterwards, Niall and Harry returned to the workroom to start the clean-up while Liam and Zayn helped Louis hobble out of the wings. It took a few minutes to manoeuvre Louis down the stage steps, but when he finally came off him it felt like he had just run a marathon. When he turned back to thank his friends, he found that Zayn was grinning. That bastard.

“Louis William Tomlinson,” he drawled, “You are a right piece of work, you know that?”

“Fuck off,” Louis growled as he stumbled into the theatre aisles. It was only then he noticed that the entire auditorium empty, “Zayn, where are my actors?”

“Sent everyone home. Technical difficulties and all. You should do the same.”

Louis groaned. Great. He’d lost another day of precious rehearsal time. “Don’t be stupid. I have things to do. I’ll be in the office if anyone needs me.” Louis pursed his lips into a sour expression as he stormed (well, hobbled) off.

“Don’t forget to stay off that ankle!” Liam meekly called from behind. Louis made a flippant wave of acknowledgement but didn’t bother to turn around. There was a blinding sense of irritation building up in Louis’ chest. Each time he set his mind to do something, the universe had a funny way of making sure that it didn’t happen. This musical being no exception. But this was his last chance. He was going to keep this theatre or die trying. And, from the looks of things, that was beginning to seem like a very real possibility.

~

Zayn and Liam watched Louis retreating form disappear into the hallway. Silently, they both returned to the workshop. Just as Liam was about to open the door, they came face to face with Harry.

“Ho-ho,” Zayn huffed as he walked Harry back into the room, “Where you think you’re going, mate?”

Harry circled the room while Niall stood and watched in the corner. The air in the room was dangerous. Harry paced back and forth his a scowl on his face. He looked like a caged lion, ready to attack at any moment.

“Well, mate,” Zayn sighed as he leaned against the opposite wall, “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

Harry stayed silent as his lips curled into a snarl. He watched Zayn out of the corner of his eyes, still not willing to look at him fully. The only sound in the room was the soft tap of Harry’s shoes across the tile floor and the careful breath of everyone in the room.

“Harry,” Niall said gently, crossing the room to place a hand on his shoulder, “What in the hell was all that?”

Harry shrugged his hand off, “Nothing.”

“Harry-”

“That’s enough Niall,” Harry barked.

Niall visibly flinched at Harry’s words. He opened his mouth, almost as if to argue, but a single steely glance from Harry made him falter. Liam and Zayn looked at each other in shock as Niall shrank curling into himself. No. This could not stand.

“Hey!” Zayn snarled, “You best watch yourself, mate. Back home Niall maybe just another servant, or whatever the hell he is, but here he is someone who put his arse on the line to indulge in your little whims. So you better treat him with some goddamn respect.”

Harry ducked his head, his gaze cast downward towards his feet. After a moment, Harry looked up. His brows were scrunched together and big green eyes were full of remorse, “I apologize, Niall. That was unfair of me.”

A small, sad smile played on Niall's lips, “It’s fine, mate. You know that.”

“No, it’s not,” Harry said, his voice wavering ever so slightly, “I’m sorry.” Niall crossed the room to envelop his mate in a hug. Hesitantly, Harry returned it. When he pulled away, there was the faintest hint of a watery smile on his face.

Liam and Zayn stood back, watching the two embrace. Niall gave Harry a pat on the shoulder as he stepped back. That’s when Liam stepped forwards with his trademark gentle ferocity, “Why exactly did you come here, Harry?” Liam asked, looking sternly into Harry’s eyes, “It was for Louis, wasn’t it?” Harry said nothing, but his eyes darted knowingly to the floor. Liam nodded, “I thought so.”

“Now listen,” said Zayn, “Louis is my mate, one of my best mates in the entire world. Nobody fucks with my mates and gets off scot-free. Considering what you’ve put him through, I could throw right in the gutter and still have a clear conscience.”

Harry didn’t look at him, his curls hiding his green eyes from Zayn’s burning amber ones. After a paused, Zayn sighed, his voice softening as he continued, “But you were my mate too once, and don’t you think that’s not for nothing.”

Harry glanced up for a moment, his eyes wide and gleaming, before quickly returning his gaze to the ground.

“That being said, if you want to get in Louis’ good graces-”

“I never said I wanted that,” Harry interjected quickly. His voice was rough and panicked as he jerked his head from side to side.

“Harry,” Zayn said, “If you want this to have even a chance of working, you need to change the way you’re going about this. And I think the best first step would be to apologize.” Harry’s face scrunched in distaste at the word. Another thing he and Louis had in common.

Liam placed a gentle hand on Harry’s shoulder, “Harry, we’re here to help.”

Harry’s green eyes were cold as he swiftly brushed off Liam’s hand, “I do not need help. Especially not yours.”

“Careful your mouth Harry,” growled Zayn.

Liam calmed Zayn’s tense form with quiet whispers as Niall approached him once more, “Harry, don’t say something you’ll regret. You need to get over that damn pride of yours. That’s not too hard ain’t it?”

Harry was silent. He bit his lip and stared at Niall. He looked like he might have been on the edge of saying something, but without warning, Harry suddenly stormed out of the room with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Niall, Zayn, and Liam watched on in defeat as he scurried out of the workroom.

“Fine!” Zayn shouted at the empty doorway, “Don’t take our advice! We’ve only been Louis’ best mates for, I don’t know,  _five fucking years!_  Go ahead and make a fool of yourself, you fucking prick! See if I care!”

Zayn stood there, wheezing as Liam shook a weary head. And Niall was doubled over and… laughing? Liam and Zayn slowly noticed their mate’s odd behaviour.

“Niall?” Liam asked carefully.

“Oh, this is brilliant!” Niall said in between fits of laughter.

Liam looked over to Zayn in confusion, but Zayn only shook his head. It seemed like they were doing that a lot lately.

With a sweeping gesture, Niall turned towards them,“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present a very rare and welcome sight: one embarrassed Harry Styles.”

~

Several hours later, the sky was dark and Louis was alone once again in his theatre. Earlier, Liam and Zayn had mentioned taking Niall to the Late Late bar for some drinks and offered for him to come along. He had declined, naturally, claiming that he had work that needed to be taken care of.

This was true, and yet, here Louis lay: on his back under the ghostlight and seriously regretting his life decisions. It was becoming a common train of thought lately. A solitary fly buzzed around Louis’ head, occasionally landing on the tip of Louis’ nose. He brushed it away, but the quiet buzz still rang in his ears. Louis closed his eyes in an attempt to drown out the noise. Memories of the day came flooding in; the shock, the misery, the humiliation. His ankle still throbbed, a constant reminder of the many reasons why Harry was a terrible human being. Thankfully, Harry had been mysteriously absent for the rest of the day. Apparently, there’s a silver lining in everything.

Casting a despondent glance towards the ever-growing hole in his stage, Louis whispered to himself, “Grandpa, what am I going to do?” There was no response. How typical. Then, a sound caught Louis’ attention.

_Tap, tap, tap._

Louis pushed himself onto his elbows and squinted into the darkness. Out of the shadows steps Harry-Freaking-Styles. Really, who did he think he was? The Phantom of the Opera?

“What do you want?” Louis hissed, laying himself back down on his back. Harry was not worthy of his full attention.

“I came to… um…”

“Yes?”

“Nothing,” Harry mused, the heels of his booties scuffing the edge theatre's blacktop, “Who are you talking to?”

“No one,” Louis said, continuing to stare at the ceiling. He wasn’t ashamed that he talked to his grandfather. Lots of people talked to their dead, except they called it praying. Louis didn’t pray. He never had and he never would. Still, he didn’t need Mr. Pretentious judging him any more than he already did.

“Voices in your head?”

Louis’ eyes narrowed, “I’m not sure if that was an insult or a bad joke. For your sake, I’ll go with the later.”

Harry hesitated at the edge of the stage. Taking a deep breath, he seemed to find the courage to speak again, “Have I done something to offend you?”

 _Ha!_ The irony in that statement was almost too much to bear.

“Maybe if you stopped acting like a soulless dickhead,” Louis’ tongue prattled on, “I wouldn’t be so adverse to your company.”

Really, it seemed like Louis’ tongue had a mind of its own sometimes.

Louis knew he was putting himself in a precarious position by lashing out at Harry. The man already towered over him on a normal day and based on Harry’s scowl, this conversation was not helping his situation. But he was irritated. Irritated at Harry, at himself, at the whole fucking world. Still, if Louis was smart, he would shut up right about now.

But Louis never was known for his smarts.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

The question hung, suspended in the room. Louis could feel the tension in the room tighten, as if daring either of them to speak. After a long paused Harry finally responded, “It’s none of your damn business.”

The answer made Louis wanted to spit.

“Fuck you, Harry. I am sick and tired of your pretentious, shallow attitude.”

Before Louis could blink, Harry lunged to spring on top of Louis. Gripping him by the wrists, Harry slammed Louis to the floor. Hard. The uneven boards dug uncomfortably into Louis’ back as Harry forced Louis’ captured wrists above his head. If the situation wasn’t so fucked up, Louis might have actually been aroused. Still in shock, Louis glanced up towards the man hovering above him. Harry’s face was twisted and contorted in rage, his pupils were blown so large that only a tiny sliver of green was visible around the edges.

Harry’s tightened his grip on Louis’ wrists, eliciting a tiny whimper from the smaller man. Louis could feel the ghosting brush of Harry’s cheek against his. “You know nothing about me!” Harry whispered in a steely voice. The near misses of contact was driving Louis just a little mad. Louis shifted under him in a desperate attempt to get free. Suddenly, Harry drove his hips down farther into the ground, pinning Louis down where he lay. Louis froze instantly, all too aware of how Harry’s groin pressed against his crotch. No. He was not going to get hard. Not here, not now.

“I know that you-” Louis huffed in earnest, “You would rather hide inside yourself than take a risk!”

One hand released Louis’ wrists to take Louis’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing Louis to meet his gaze, “You are nothing like I remembered you,” he rumbled.

Louis snarled in response, cheeks still scrunched together, “Ditto for you shithead!”

Louis’ voice echoed in the vacant theatre. He continued to hold Harry’s gaze, their noses mere centimetres from touching. The younger man stared back at him, his emerald eyes sharp with ire. Their chests rose and fell in sync, both of them still recovering from the sudden burst adrenalin of the fight. Louis’ eyes flicked over Harry’s face, unconsciously falling onto Harry’s bright red lips. Harry rolled off Louis and released him with a distasteful grunt. Louis propped himself upright, careful not to move his foot.

 For a moment they were silent. Harry glared at him and Louis glared right back. They were at a stalemate. Harry was a stubborn little fucker, but Louis would wager that he was even more stubborn. Louis wasn’t backing down this time. So they stayed that, Louis still sitting on the floor and Harry looking down on him, literally. Several minutes in, Louis' neck began to hurt from craning to look Harry in the eye. And just when Louis thought the pain might be too much, Harry turned to go, his footsteps reverberating in the quiet air.

Louis allowed himself a satisfied smirk as he watched Harry scurry away. But it felt like something was missing. After all, Louis had never been one to walk away from a fight.

Or Harry.

“You know it wouldn’t kill you to  think for yourself every now and then,” he spat to Harry’s back, “Instead of spending all your days wandering around like some brainless painted doll.” Oh, yes. That one felt good.

Harry spun around with his teeth bared, his patience gone, “You really don’t know when to leave it be, do you? Well, you aren’t so perfect either, you little filthy mouthed slut. Don’t think I didn’t see you the other night at the club; letting a perfectly random bloke feel you up in public. You painted whore.”

“Fuck you!”

“Oh, did I hit a nerve?”

Louis’ cheeks began to burn with a different kind of pain. Gritting his teeth, Louis fixed his gaze onto Harry, “Why do you care? It’s none of your damn business who I fuck!” he growled. For a second, Louis thought about defending himself. He thought about letting Harry know that he hadn’t had a good fuck in over a year. Then he quickly thought better of it. Best not let Harry know what a pathetic mess he really was. Fuck, he couldn’t believe he was actually having this conversation.

Louis struggled to his feet under Harry’s critical gaze, “Who are you? I might have known you once, but I don’t anymore.”

“Me? You’re the one who's changed!”

Louis scoffed, “Don’t lie to yourself Harry, it’s not healthy.”

There was something that looked like pain in his eyes. Turning on his heel, Harry stalked out of the room. Louis didn’t know where he was going and he didn’t care. Really. He didn’t. 

Louis stumbled his way home that night. He said hello to Rory on his way there, but that was the only conversation he had for the rest of the day. He had tried texting Liam and Zayn, but neither of them were picking up. They were obviously very busy grinding on each other at the club.

When Louis got back to his flat (after several flights of stairs, mind you) he was mildly surprised not to find Harry there. Despite his better judgement, he had given Harry a key last week after he found Harry asleep on his doorstep after Louis had lost track of time at work. Yet the flat was strikingly Harry-free.

Louis heaved a shaky sigh of relief. This was good. He finally had Harry out of his hair for one night. This was good, right? Louis took a dubious look at the deadbolt. Sure, Harry had a key, but the deadbolt could only be opened from the inside. He should lock it. Lock it and leave Harry to deal with his own bullshit. He could easily find another couch to sleep on. Louis’ fingers hovered over the latch, just itching to lock. They stayed there for two seconds. Then five. Then ten. Then with an irritated breath, Louis left the lock where it was.

As he readied himself for bed, Louis’ thoughts drifted to Harry. He might have gone to Liam's and Zayn’s. He’d be fine there, except their sofa was even smaller than Louis’. In fact, he might be resigned to sleeping on the floor, which would surely mean a sore back for tomorrow. On the other hand, he could have gone to Niall’s, wherever it was that he was staying. He didn’t know the layout of Niall’s place, but Louis was sure that he would be accommodating. His phone buzzed a few minutes later. It was from James. Apparently, Harry showed up and ran quite a tab. James said not to worry though, the men that came in because of Harry paid more than enough for his drinks. For some reason, Louis had to suppress the urge to fling his phone across the room.

Louis went to bed restless. He tossed and turned for hours, unable to quell the mysterious anxiety in his chest. His eyes flew open with every little sound he heard. And with his flat being the piece of shit it was, there were lots of creaks and groans to keep Louis awake. This was going to be a rough night.

Several hours later, Louis heard the door creak open. A set of fumbling footsteps made their way into the flat. The door closed a second later and Louis heard the lock turn with a definitive  _click_. The springs on the sofa groaned as Harry threw himself onto the cushions. So he bothered to come home after all. Finally. A few minutes later, Louis drifted off to a listless sleep.

* * *

“Goddamn, it’s dark in here,” Louis muttered. His words produced a quiet echo through the darkness. There wasn't even enough light to see the next step in front of him, which meant that Louis had to be very careful about where he stepped. They did not want a repeat of the sea urchin incident. 

A few paces behind him, Harry huffed a breathy laugh, “Well Lou, we are in a  _cave_ …” It was true. And how had they gotten into this mysterious unmarked cavern, one might ask. Well, Louis really couldn’t have told you. But the locals from down the street had insisted it led to a gorgeous beach well out of reach by the tourists. The Glowing Sea, they called it. Or, at least, Louis was pretty sure that was what it was. He wasn’t exactly fluent in Greek.

“I take back what I said in town, sarcasm doesn’t suit you at all.”

“You just don’t like being teased,” Harry countered.

“Oh darling,” Louis cooed, “I love being teased. I just prefer it in the physical sense.” Somewhere in the darkness, Harry stumbled and a tiny groan echoed through the cave’s walls. Louis let out a quiet snort, Harry was such a joy to tease.

The cave was silent save for the gentle trickle of the water. Louis’ feet slipped on the mossy rocks underfoot and he kept a hand on the cave wall, careful not to become disoriented in the pitch black. His fingertips slid across the wet rock, slick with salty condensation from the nearby sea. Louis could hear Harry stumbling along behind him as his clumsy limbs kicked rocks into the quiet dark.

A comfortable quiet surrounded them as they continued down the cavern. Naturally, Louis couldn’t let that last. Gently, Louis nudged Harry in the ribs. A moment later, Harry mimicked the action. Soon the two of them were tangled in an elbowing match with their laughter echoing through the cave.

“I hate you,” Harry giggled.

“Liar,” Louis huffed with false indignation, “You know you love me.”

Louis stopped, realizing what he’d just said. For a second, there was a deafening silence as Louis waited for Harry to respond. It was a hard pill to swallow when he didn’t. Louis took a tense step forward, his back felt like a rod of iron.

Harry gently bumped into him from behind a moment later, “Really?”

“Huh?”

“Did you really mean… about… what you said before?”

Oh. That one caught Louis off guard. “Yeah,” Louis breathed, “Yeah I did.”

“But you barely even know me.”

“So?”

Harry paused, choosing his words carefully before he continued, “You might not like me so much if you really knew who I am.”

“What? A werewolf? Vampire?” A smile tugged on Louis’ cheek as he heard Harry chuckle.

“No,” Harry admitted.

“See? Not so bad,” Louis chuckled, letting his hand slip into Harry’s thick curls. They were soft and damp from the humid air. Each ringlet sprung back into place as Louis’ fingers ran through them. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, a sense of awe creeping into his hushed voice.

Even without being able to see him, Louis could tell Harry was blushing, “No, I’m not,” Harry mumbled from the darkness.

“Yes, love, you are. And I don’t know whether to find it sad or adorable that you don’t know that.”

Harry huffed a little laugh, “You can’t even see me.” It was true, the cave was nearly pitch-black, but Harry’s body pressed against him drew heat into his cold bones.

“I don’t need to,” Louis’ lips brushed against the lobe of Harry’s ear, “The outside, it’s pretty. Anyone can see that. But what’s on the inside; that’s what’s really stunning.”

Harry let out a small gasp as Louis’ fingers found a soft spot of warm flesh under his shirt. Louis was about to pull them a bit closer when Harry suddenly broke out of Louis’ arms. Louis was left standing there little stunned and missing Harry’s body heat. Louis could just make out his outline pacing a few steps ahead of him. If Harry could’ve seen Louis’ eyes, there would have been questions swimming in them. It was quiet again as Harry’s rejection sunk in around them.

“Look, there.” A light shone just up ahead. The end of the cave. Funny, Louis hadn’t even noticed it. He could see the outline of Harry’s face now. They approached the opening, finally casting a bit of light on their hidden features.

“Have you ever noticed how much braver people are when they don’t have to look the other person in the eye?” Harry asked suddenly.

Louis glanced at him with an arched eyebrow, “I guess?”

“Then tell me again,” Harry whispered before he stepped out of the shadows and into the light. Louis hesitated by the edge of the cave, watching as Harry ran across the sand and into the night. At first, the beach looked just as dark as the cave, but slowly Louis’ eyes adjusted to the dim light. It was a new moon that night, but that only made the stars shine brighter. Louis could just make out Harry’s silhouette scampering along the shoreline, bathed in starlight. Pushing away from the wall, Louis followed him into the beach.

Louis ran up beside Harry who was kneeling at the shoreline. The light cast a pale glow over Harry’s face, he looked like one of those old cinema stars, ready to jump off of the screen. Harry pointed eagerly towards the shoreline, “Look Lou! Look!”

At first, Louis couldn’t see anything. The black waves galloped up the shore and paused at their feet before being sucked back into the ocean. Like it was breathing. Then Louis noticed something peculiar: there seemed to be bright blue flecks of light sparkling along the shoreline. Harry scooped up a handful of sand and brought it close to their faces. Amidst the pale sand sat a tiny blue orb, pulsing gently with life.

Harry’s eyes were wide with delight as he gazed at the tiny blue dot. Louis chuckled at Harry’s amazement but when he looked up again he felt a small gasp escape from his own throat. The sea was glowing. The waves were iridescent, gleaming with shifting shades of blue and green which popped out against the ebony sea. The Glowing Sea. They’d really meant it. This was beyond anything Louis could have ever imagined. It was magical.

Louis tugged at his arm, nudging him towards the water.

“Come on, love,” Louis whispered into his ear.

Harry shook his head, “No-”

“Look,” Louis peeled his shirt off and let it fall into the sand, “It’s okay.” Harry didn’t say anything, he just stood there letting his eyes soak Louis in. A sudden wave of gooseflesh covered Louis’ entire body as Harry continued to stare at him. His green eyes travelled the expanse of Louis’ body, gently sliding all the way from Louis’ face down to his sand covered feet. Even in the coolness of the night, Louis was beginning to feel rather hot.

“C’mon,” Louis said again, his voice a little gravely this time. Harry still sat there looking slightly terrified. Louis grabbed his hand slowly brought him to his feet. Silently, Louis slipped a hand under the hem of Harry’s shirt. Harry’s breath hitched as Louis slowly pulled the fabric up over his head. Harry stood there, stunned, as Louis let the shirt drop into the sand. Cautiously, Louis hooked fingers into Harry’s shorts and led him to the edge of the surf.

They waded into the water until it pooled around their stomachs. As they moved farther from shore, they left a thin blue-green trail of lights behind them. The water was warm and the waves pushed against the two boys as they huddled close together. Harry craned his neck to look up to the sky, exposing the pale underside of his neck. Louis let his eyes linger on the prominent Adam's apple before joining Harry’s upturned gaze.

There were stars. Louis had never seen so many stars in his entire life. They littered the night sky; as if someone had crushed a thousand diamonds and then scattered their dust into the darkened abyss. Harry sighed and Louis felt his chest expand, felt his heart thudding in his chest. As they both brought their gaze back to each other, Louis couldn’t help the flutter when realized that their faces were mere centimetres apart.

The lights began to glow again as Louis shifted in the water. All around them, the ocean lit up in an explosion of turquoise. Louis could see Harry’s face clearly now, his features were awash with the blue-green light until his eyes were all but glowing, “Look, Louis,” he giggled, “We’re swimming in the stars.”

“Yes, love,” Louis said in a hushed voice, “Yes, we are.”

Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck to draw him closer, the sliver of light disappearing between their bodies. They stood there for a moment, with Harry back arched over Louis, breathing in each other’s air. Louis hoisted himself up, wrapping his legs around Harry’s waist. His thighs trembled slightly as they squeezed around Harry’s hips, but Louis was too wrapped up in Harry’s arms to notice. Harry let his nose brush against Louis’, “Lou.”

“Haz,” he sang back.

“I’ve known you for two weeks, four days, and six hours-”

“Not that anyone’s counting,” Louis interjected with a smile.

Harry let out an abrupt laugh, which made Louis grin like a loon, “Not that anyone’s counting,” Harry agreed, “What I mean is, I feel like I’ve known you for so much longer. And I think-” Harry stopped, his lips shut in a tight line with his eyes wide and panic.

“I think…” Louis prompted, gently stroking the spot between Harry’s shoulder blades.

Harry’s eyes darted to the water, to the sky, to anywhere but Louis’ eyes, “I think- God this is mad. I might love you,” he whispered.

“I think I might love you too,” Louis wound his fingers through his curls, his face hovering just above Harry’s, “Babycakes.”

A light laugh escaped Harry’s lips, Louis couldn’t help the smile that tugged on his face. Their lips brushed softly, barely even touching. Then Louis tugged his head a little closer, pressing his lips deeper against Harry’s.

Suddenly, Harry ducked his head and Louis felt the tension in his hands around his hips. His eyes were squeezed shut as he took quick, shallow breaths. Louis brought his hands to cradle Harry’s face, “Love, what’s wrong? Harry, talk to me.” Harry’s brows furrowed together and his green eyes were covered in a watery glaze. He bit down on his lip so hard, Louis wouldn’t have been surprised if it started bleeding.

Harry shook his head, water droplets cascading off the ends of his hair, “We shouldn’t have done that,” he choked. It was only then Louis realized that Harry was shaking.

“Why not?”

“Because-”

“Because nothing,” Louis said firmly, placing his hands on either side of Harry’s face. Harry tentatively rose his eyes to meet Louis’, “Harry, you were right before. I know nothing about you or where you came from or anything. But I can tell you this: it’s okay. Whatever’s holding you back out there, it can’t reach us here. It’s just you and me and the stars.”

Harry nodded as a fresh set of tears streamed down his face. Louis kissed his cheeks; as if that could take away Harry’s pain. He couldn’t tell where Harry’s tears turned into the sea water, but he didn’t care.

“And just for the record, in the light mind you,” Harry’s laugh was shaky but genuine. And that’s all that mattered to Louis, “You are the most beautiful person I have ever met. Inside and out.”

Through watery eyes, Harry smiled. He smiled at Louis like he was the most beautiful thing in the world. And in that moment, Louis believed him. Harry brought a hand to the nape of Louis’ neck and connect their lips once again. The kiss was rough and uncoordinated, but the pure, unbridled passion behind it still made Louis giddy. For a moment, Louis wondered if Harry had been kissed before, and he wasn’t one bit ashamed of the bolt of excitement it sent through his body.

Yes, it was so obvious. How could he not love this quirky, clumsy, beautiful boy? Louis kissed him with everything he had. Harry’s breath hitched as Louis slid his tongue against his lips. Harry’s arms tightened around him as he parted his mouth to give Louis better access. A low whimper escaped Louis’ throat as Harry’s hand came to grip Louis’ arse. Harry chuckled into Louis’ mouth, their lips still firmly attached. Louis couldn’t help but smile through the kiss; were you even supposed to laugh while kissing? It was nothing but firsts with Harry. They stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, surrounded by stars.

* * *

 

Louis’ eyes snapped open as he shot up from his pillow. His heart hammered for a minute as a he looked around his darkened room. The memories of the night slowly faded back to him. Casting a wayward glance to the door, Louis flopped back onto the mattress. The mattress springs groaned in protest against the onslaught of sudden weight. Louis rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow. He let out a stifled groan as he recalled the sudden dream. Him. Harry. Greece. God, what an awful dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that was long. Time to start the next one!  
> Until then,  
> \- Luna


	5. Preview: Dancing Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's a little preview of the next chapter!
> 
>   
>    
> 

“James, I thought I made this clear: we can’t perform in the middle of the street!”

Louis looked around at their large group of people gathered at the corner of Crown and Lion. The girls were all dressed as old village maids and a handful of boys walked by him in nothing in swim trunks, flippers, and a snorkel. They must have looked like fools.

Liam was running around clutching a clipboard as a well as a stray flipper, “No, no, no! Lou, it’s fine.” he reassured, “We’re not on the street. We’re on the crosswalk.”

“Liam, you’re doing a terrible job at explaining this,” James butted in, reclaiming the conversation, “Just hear me out on this. We don’t perform while there’s traffic; because that would just be stupid. We wait till the light turns red and then we perform on the crosswalk! Right in front of the cars!”

“You’re not helping your case gentlemen! This is still the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever heard.”

“I like it.” Harry said. Louis rolled his eyes. This plan was ridiculous and over the top. Of course he would bloody like it.

* * *

 “Into bed we go,” he cooed as he lowered Harry into his bed. Harry rolled onto the rumpled sheets, his eyes immediately closing when his head hit the pillow. Louis looked at the drunken figure on his bed and knelt down beside him. “I’ll be on the sofa,” he murmured.

“No,” Harry suddenly choked, feebly grasping at Louis’ sleeve, “Stay.”

Louis shushed him, “Sleep.”

Harry only gripped him tighter, eyes wide and swimming with fervor. His fingers squeezed around Louis’ until they hurt, “Please,” he pleaded, tucking his face into the pillow.

Louis let a thumb slide against the cheekbones of Harry’s sleeping face, the very beginning of a stubble peeking out on his skin. “Sleep, love,” he whispered, “Sleep.” Harry’s eyes fluttered at Louis’ voice, but his breathing remained heavy and slow. Louis gently slid off the bed, careful not to wake him. He pulled the covers over Harry’s half-clothed body before tip-toeing to the door. Just as he was about to close the door, a small noise came from the bed.

“Lou.”

Louis wasn’t about to acknowledge the stumbling of his heart or how the quiet plea seemed to reverberate in his chest. Louis shut the door as quietly as he possibly could before he returned to the living room. This was going to be another long night of restless sleep.


End file.
